


Carmen

by jessfeels



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Multi, Outlaw Queen - Freeform, SeaDevil, Slow Burn, The Tourist - Freeform, carmen sandiego - Freeform, criminal, skinny love, some mistery tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:48:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 52,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessfeels/pseuds/jessfeels
Summary: He was obsessed with catching The Red Cloak's criminal. He studied everything about her, day and night, certain that at some point, he would be able to stay one step ahead of the woman who had overthrown agencies and governments with a quick snap of her lips.





	1. prologue

He looked through the large windowpanes of his office and, for a while, he watched the passersby wandering by the streets. Westminster was, actually, London's richest district and it reflected on the people’s countenance. Hurried, closed, concentrated. They walked as if they were marching, their eyes stuck on their clocks and their minds stuck on their own lifes.

 

He turned into his office and then his eyes found the grand panel. There were pictures of her, everywhere. Red ribbons that connected her last whereabouts, pictures of many suspects, pictures of victims. Telephone numbers, addresses, encrypted messages that made no sense at all. He put his hands on the pockets of his expensive KIngston suit and walked to the panel. Her photo was in front of him. The black hair, the sharp and intense eyes. The fleshy mouth, the mysterious scar. The face that chased him during the day and during his dreams.

 

_Carmen._

 

He stared at the picture next to her photo, the silhouette of a man. The man who had charmed her. The man who gave her the coordinates, the guidelines; the man who spoiled her and gave her everything, except his identity.

 

_The Raven._

 

Robin knew he was going far beyond his obligations. As a regulated Interpol officer, he knew he had several obligations. He knew he had a battalion of operations to manage. Officers to be supervised and directed. No one could claim that he didn’t perform his duty with mastery - he possessed an almost infinite cadre of gratifications for his great work. He had more decorations than his superiors. However, all his perfection was flawed when it came to her.

 

He was obsessed with catching The Red Cloak’s criminal. He studied everything about her, day and night, certain that at some point, he would be able to stay one step ahead of the woman who had overthrown agencies and governments with a quick snap of her lips. The phone rang and he walked to it, pressing the speaker button.

 

"McLockesller."

 

"Commissioner Gold is here."

 

Fuck.

 

"Ask him to come in."

 

Robin went to the door. Gold came in, his hair combed back, his dark gray coat with light snowflakes over his shoulders. He reached out and greeted him before walking, with the help of his cane, into the office. Without any ceremony, the commissary walked to the bar and poured himself a dose of Haig Club Scotch.

 

"How's it going, McLockesller?"

 

"Very well, Sir."

 

Gold walked over to the padded bench and sat there, staring at the blonde in front of him. "I'm a busy man, Robin. I don’t have time to get involved, and our work doesn’t allow bullshits of any kind."

 

Robin just nodded. He clasped his hands after sitting in front of the commissary, gracefully crossing his legs.

 

"You have two options, McLockesller. Either you end the Carmen operation, or you come up with new information. The executive board has been pressing me on this case since until now we only had expenses and no return. We don’t advance anything about the Raven's identity."

 

"Sir, I understand their concern, but I assure you..."

 

"You don’t guarantee anything, Robin." Gold broke off. He drank his drink in two long and deep sips, before he began to rise. "You're one of the best men in the company. Possibly the most brilliant mind they have ever known. But even the big ones can make big mistakes. Choose wisely and act as quickly as possible because they are watching us."

 

Robin nodded as the man left his office with slow steps. As soon as the door closed, Robin came back to his desk and threw everything on the floor, furious. Fists clenched, he punched the medieval table carved in Indian teak, feeling the impact of the punch in his center of pain. He raised his head and stared at the photo of the mysterious woman in the red cape.

 

_I'll find you, Carmen. Even if it's the last thing I do._


	2. The equilateral triangle

She would even go unnoticed at that simple coffee table if it were not for her striking face. Sitting in a corner at the bottom of the Wild Food Café, she drank a cup of hot cocoa with gingerbread. She loved the surroundings of Covent Garden - the buildings were beautiful, retaining a kind of familiarity that was simple and comfortable, and blended with the colorful frames and flowers, they formed a beautiful scenario. It was very elegant to have coffee in the crypt of St. Martin-in-the-Fields Church, but she strongly preferred the popularity and warmth of that coffee.

 

Obviously, that was not the only reason. A spy should not be a user of tourist attractions with their thousands of cameras ready to memorize her face and alert the police of all the surrounding countries. She finished her coffee watching a couple play with each other on the counter and she smiled. Gently, she examined the gold watch and made sure it was late. She needed to get back.

 

She walked over to the cashier and smiled discreetly, paying more than her bill - the clerk grinned at the unexpected tip. She tied the white trench-coat around her body and hid herself between the high collars of the coat. The hat helped keep her out of sight of others while she was hurrying around Neal's Yard. She had not received any more messages since her landing at Chelsea and that bothered her. She hated the unknown - which it was an irony.

 

In a few minutes she had arrived at the hotel where she was staying. Splendid, elegant and discreet. She had no intention of leaving Covent Garden anytime soon - she also knew she would not be wanted there. She went through the revolving door and headed towards the stairs when one of the clerks gently called her.

 

"Ms. Zambrano?"

 

"Ouí"

 

"You’ve got mail."

 

The boy handed her the closed green envelope with the stick of red wax. He did not know how much to see that the simple piece of paper made the heart of that beautiful woman palpitate. She smiled, taking the envelope carefully and thanking him with a slight nod. "Merci beaucoup, monsieur Kayne."

 

The man smiled, delighted. He had met lots of tourists but something about her was very seductive. Perhaps it was her education and gentleness, perhaps it was the undeniable beauty. Or her mysterious stay. Anyway, for Kayne, it was a pleasure to have her there. He watched as she made her way up the stairs with her masterful delicacy, and then returned to work.

 

***

 

In her bedroom, she tossed her trench coat into the oversized bed and walked over to the desk. Her hair, trapped in a bun, fell into her eyes, and she brushed them away with a faint swipe of her fingers. She wore a tight pencil skirt and a satin singlet, the slim body perfectly lined up in the massive wooden chair. She opened the first drawer and took out a card opener, propping it against the hardened wax button and opening the letter.

 

 

 

" _Sweet Carmen._

_It's been a while since my last letter. I guess you were apprehensive, and I apologize for that. Your new mission can be incredibly dangerous, and I do not think I can ask you to do it. I promised you I would find you, and I still can not do it._

_It's important that you know that regardless of your decision, I love you. In your closet, there are three dresses that were bought according to your usual taste. There will be a ball at Whitehall Palace tomorrow. The great ruby of Salazar will be on display. This is the target._

_If you reject this request, inside the closet there is a plane ticket back to your particular island._

_You owe me nothing, you can leave the operation when it seems appropriate._

_Like I told you, Carmen, I can not find you yet. But if I could, I would ask you to trust me. There_

_is a storm coming._

_Kisses_

_The raven._ "

 

She read the letter over and over again, and after releasing the small paper marked with gold letters, she looked at the reflection of herself. Her trained instinct told her yes. Take the mission, fulfill the requirement, hit the target and take out your reward. But she had made the mistake of involving her heart. The Raven had stopped being a mere employer. The man who deposited fortunes in her account and paid her travels around the world. At first, it was only for money. The proposal was tempting. Big sums for schematic thefts, big sums to be in the right place at the right time. Of course it had not always been easy - after a while she had to start getting her hands dirty to complete some missions.

 

It had never bothered her before, to ignore Raven's identity. All she was interested in was her payment which always appeared in her hands or in her accounts on time. But the relationship between them, step by step, have found curves and gaps where a thin layer of intimacy decided to get in. He gave her more than money. He hosted her in the best hotels. He spoiled her with clothes, jewels. He sent her flowers.

 

He started sending flowers on her special dates. He discovered her birthday, discovered the anniversary of her father's death, her favorite flavors, her favorite labels, including what hurts her. She had never asked for anything. It was as if the Raven accompanied her all the time, everything she needed, everything she craved - magically it found a way to her hands.

 

Carmen got up and walked to the closet that was tied with a white lace. She pulled the knot and opened the doors carefully. Her eyes gleamed as she saw the three beautiful dresses. A Gucci, a Vera Wang, a Chanel. All of them were different in their conceptions, from the sensual red to the classic and chic nude. And absolutely none displeased her, in fact she would have great difficulty choosing only one. She studied the shoes, the jewels, every detail conscientously thought. And in the corner, a green suede envelope where her air ticket probably were.

 

She closed the closet. The air seemed to have created a greater density than she could handle, so she walked to the terrace through the glass doors. She watched the sun give small signs through the numerous clouds and took a deep breath. She did not know what to hear. She did not know what was her heart and her reason, what was the spy and the woman. She had mixed herself with that story in a way that all her tips became confused.

 

Then she realized there was a man photographing her from the corner to her left and breathed heavily.

 

_Robin McLocksller._

 

Was not he ever going to give up? She knew everything about the Interpol officer's obsession about her and Raven's identity. She had heard reports of his almost sickening dedication, studying her steps day and night. She didn't care about him - she had never seen him in person, but she thought of an old grumpy man who had no more sexual attraction for his wife and therefore he needed a target where to expend his energies. She could not step on the London soil with her expensive shoes  that he put half of Interpol and the city officials to keep watch her day and night. If he wanted to arrest her, why didn’t he? Possibly he did not even have enough accusations to keep her in prison, and that made her smile.

 

She turned and looked at the window pane. She walked to the door, took a lipstick from her pencil skirt pocket and drew a red triangle on the glass, entering the room and closing the door after that.

 

***

 

Two blocks away, an officer released his binoculars and pressed a button on his

communications radio. "Central, this is Asa - B34. I report the drawing of an equilateral triangle. I repeat. An equilateral triangle."

 

***

 

Robin was sitting in his office when the information reached his radio. He rummaged through the papers, letting some of them fall on the floor. Not finding what he wanted, he cursed himself mentally for the mess and turned his attention to the immense panel. It was there, somewhere. He saw and mentally reviewed the dozens of photos until he found what he was looking for.

 

A picture of the hotel she had been staying in New York two years ago. And a photo of the same triangle, drawn on the windowpane - what happened the day before the robbery at the Harley Park Art Gallery.

 

Robin bit his lip and stared at the photo of that face wrapped in the red cloak. He removed the radio communicator from the waist and pressed the button with his thumb, he warned. "Attention teams delta, beta and omega: Carmen accepted the mission. Attention doubled. We're on the eve of a big robbery."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta for the marvelous work (:  
> You rock, Vanes


	3. Sexy, but not too sexy.

She was reading the newspaper while she drank the third glass of champagne. Not that she was actually interested in London - it was neither her favorite city nor between those she truly appreciated. She preferred the charms of Paris, the elegance of Venice, the spontaneity of Greece.

 

The bedroom doorbell rang and she just looked up. She wasn't expecting anyone and obviously, The Raven wouldn’t knock on her door like it was a room service. Even if she wanted to. She walked slowly to the upper drawer and pulled out her Ruger 380 carefully, disengaging the safety catch. As if nothing was happening, she walked to the door and leaned against it.

 

"Qu’est que c'est?" She asked, and waited in silence.

 

"The most wonderful british woman that you have ever had the privilege of meeting. Now, hurry up, open this door before I die waiting.”

 

She smiled, opening the door without delay. In front of her, Victoria, who was dressed in a long and white dress and a flat fur coat also white over the piece. Her blond hair glowed with a golden glow, and she smiled, her blue eyes staring into hers.

 

"You look beautiful, baby girl." Victoria walked over to her and kissed her lips in a light kiss, walking into the bedroom. "What are we drinking?"

 

When Regina turned to the table, Victoria was already seated and drinking her champagne. She shook her head with a smile on the lips and took another goblet from the bucket, filling it with the viscous liquid.

 

"How are you, Vic?"

 

"Formidable, dahling, formidable. The Baron of Couttintand is awesome and he gives me exactly everything I want."

 

Carmen sipped her drink as she listened. Victoria's voice had always been sexy and mixed with her accent, it was a powerful weapon. "How did you know I was in town?"

 

"Darling, darling, everybody knows when you're in town. What name are you using anyway? Zambrano, or something alike?"

 

"Eva Zambrano."

 

"Beautiful name, by the way." The blonde set the goblet on the small table and leaned forward, focusing her attention on the brunette. "And what brought you back? As far as I remember, you're not a passionate fan of London. Let me guess, the Raven sent you?"

 

"Yes."

 

"After all this time, Regina?"

 

It was so rare to be called by this name that it always caused a certain thump. It was as if for a few seconds she came to the surface and breathed; as if she was suddenly aware of who she was. But it was an ephemeral sensation - so little appeared, so quickly disappeared. She remembered the distant past where she had met the blonde, two women sitting in a cell at the central police station in Amsterdam. For some reason, they felt incredibly comfortable around each other. They talked for hours about their lives, their crimes, the implications of their choices. From that moment on, they seemed to be intertwined with fate. Regina helped her escape from an ambush in Rome. Victoria saved her from an eminent prison in Switzerland. They couldn’t explain what had motivated them at first sight, but they created a bond of trust and complicity, certain that no matter what happened - they were under each other's protection.

 

"Victoria, it's my job."

 

The blonde looked at her with irony. "You're not trying to convince me of it, are you? Save it. You’re in love with The Raven, and even if you aren’t, you should have given up when you almost got killed in that ambush."

 

"It was a slip."

 

"He was supposed to be in control, Regina."

 

The brunette took another sip and smiled though her eyes had lost some of the glow. "I don’t know what to feel about him. Is it possible to love a person that you have never met?"

 

"Nothing is impossible in love, Mills, but let's stop this subject because it's really depressing. Tell me about the target.”

 

She arched one eyebrow. "You know it's confidential, even to the famous The Devil."

 

"I tried!" The blonde responded, raising her hands up as she smiled happily. "Will you spend all day in this hotel? Can we go out to drink and dance tonight? Please, darling."

 

She could say no. She would surely find several excuses, motives, reasons, and motivations to argue her decision to remain secluded in her beautiful hotel room. But Victoria was one of her few friends, and she knew some fresh air would not hurt her.

 

“Oui, Vic. I'm going out with you tonight.”

 

“I luv it! I'm going home because I have to flatter my dear husband, but I'll come back later to get you. Put something sexy, but not too sexy or I'm going to have to drag you home myself." She laughed, and Regina bit her lip, knowing Victoria was not just bluffing. Years of friendship taught her a lot about the sexuality of their friendship.

 

"I'll be ready, mademoiselle Devil."

 

Victoria walked over to her and hugged her tightly, her arms around the brunette's waist. "I missed you, baby girl."

 

"Me too love."

 

It took two seconds for Victoria to disappear, as light as a breeze dissipating in the air. Regina checked the clock to see how much time she had, and decided she needed to go out to buy something sexy, but not too sexy.

 

***

 

"Any visitors?"

 

Robin breathed audibly. The representatives of the teams were seated around the large glass table. Dressed in their official costumes, they observed politely and respectfully the man in navy blue suit.

 

"The only visit that Carmen received was the Baroness of Couttintand, and it took 15 minutes, and they stayed on the spot visible all the time. The suspicion has possession of a gun, an automatic Ruger 380 that was identified on the furniture."

 

"Thank you, Lieutenant Campbell. What do we know about the Baroness?"

 

"She has a criminal record but she is officially retired since the wedding. Known as The Devil, she robbed several casinos, broke a bank in ..."

 

"I know who she is." Robin interrupted. “I was asking about something new.”

 

"Do you think she is the connection between The Raven and the suspicion?" Asked Mark, responsible for the Delta team.

 

"The Raven does not use connections, he is always in direct contact with Carmen. If she were intertwined with him she would not have appeared so openly knowing that she would be watched. She is clean.”

 

The officers were staring at him, waiting for some decision. After a while, he took a deep breath and turned to faced them, staring into their eyes. "The operation Carmen does not characterize urgency. So the team Alpha and Omega are dismissed. I will pass you guys to the command of Sub Inspector Killian Jones. I will accompany the Delta team, which will continue to operate in the operation. Understood?"

 

"Yes sir." The answer sounded unanimous in the chorus formed by the voices of the three officers. As soon as the representatives of the dispensed staff left, Robin turned to Mark. The redhead was on alert.

 

"What is the coordinate, Sir?"

 

"Tell me we have something, Agent Frost."

 

"Eva Zambrano is on the list of guests at the masquerade ball at Whitehall Palace. It is a great charity event with an exhibition of imperial jewels. That’s the same name that Miss Carmen is using to stay in that hotel.”

 

Robin considered the new information. "What is the most valuable piece on display at this event?"

 

"The great ruby of Salazar, Sir."

 

A victorious smile crossed his lips. "It's the target. The Raven only works with jewels of exacerbated values."

 

"Shall we prevent that piece from being included in the collection?"

 

Knowing that it could be the worst decision he ever made, but also knowing that he didn't have nothing better, he decided to jump over the cliff. “No. I had a better idea.” He cleared his throat. "We're going to the ball too."

 

***

 

Far away, at the docks of St. Katherine, someone docked a Grand Azimut 140'. A yacht like that, with its incomparable proportion of luxury would draw too much attention if it isn’t located in the most luxurious navy of central London. From there, the access to the River Thames was easy.

 

Dressed in a well-cut gray suit, she stepped off the yacht. She was carrying only her coat and cell phone. There is no need for any other item when she had an army of russian bodyguards who were trained for a lifetime to do anything to her. "Zanic, find out where she's staying." The blonde man quickly walked along the docks and disappeared into the city and she continued her way to a limousine that was waiting for her.

 

Two of them followed her loyally. "Khoe, I want you to call Sidney Glass and ask him to meet me at my hotel."

 

"Which one, lady?"

 

She smiled openly, though they could not see. "Let me think ... At the Royal Garden Hotel. Tell him to bring the new Dolce and Gabbana collection. I need a beautiful dress for the ball that is gonna happen tomorrow."

 

The driver elegantly opened the door of the limousine, and she entered. Her blue eyes checked every detail and she sighed, satisfied. She turned to the two men in their dark suits, and they seemed confused, their faces plunged in the most complete doubt; she rolled her eyes, slighly annoyed. "Your car will be here in a few minutes. Although my hotel is strictly safe, do not you dare to be late. You know how much I hate delays. "

 

She closed the door, and the driver pulled away.

 

"Where shall we go, Mrs. Baryshnikov?"

 

"For the Royal Garden."

 

She stared at the streets that they were passing by with an absolute boredom in her eyes. She did not understand people's interest in that imperial, monarchic, aristocratic piece of land that was bound to dictate rules under superfluous superiority. Her Russia was, in fact, a much better home.

 

***

 

At McLocksller's office, the alert device blinked, signaling an urgent message.

               

_Dragon Woman landed in St. Katherine. Male Baryshnikov is in London._


	4. Cittie of Yorke

It was dark and Regina was finishing her makeup. Adept of her natural beauty, she used just a few artifices. A deep red lipstick, a generous layer of mascara, smoky eyes with a little black shadow. Added to the dress tied to her body as if it were a second skin, she could call herself a dangerous combination. The red tube dress was halfway up her thighs but it allowed her to place a light dagger under her left thigh at the height of the garter belt.

 

She was crossing the room when a green envelope was placed under her door. Her initial reaction was to run to the door and open it quickly as if to find The Raven himself standing there. But how many times had she done this to find anyone nearby?

 

She opened the envelope and her eyes softened when she saw the familiar handwriting.

 

_"Sweet Carmen._

_I sincerely hope you have fun today. Do not feel invaded, I just try to inform myself of the strictly necessary. I do not want you to feel watched or imprisoned in any way._

_Victoria is a very charismatic woman and I'm sure she'll take care of you. Try to have fun. I can see how tense you have been since you landed in the british territory and I wonder if I am one of the reasons - if not the main reason for it._

_Have a good time. But I have a request to make. Male is in town and we both know she will come after you. She'll watch over you because she thinks we'll meet and I'm the one responsible for that. You need a scapegoat, Carmen._

_Choose one among the many men who will show interest in you and let him became the bait. Distract them. Let them believe whatever they want to. No, you do not have to do anything you did not want to do. The fact of being seen with a man will be enough to occupy the Heiress of Fire and Interpol._

_As I told you, there is a storm coming. But I will not let anything happen to you, Carmen. If necessary, my identity will be revealed._

_Trust me._

_The Raven._ "

 

If necessary, my identity will be revealed. For a few seconds Regina bit her lower lip. Would he do it for her? Would he yield one of the best-kept and disputed identities in police counties around the world? She was smiling at a phrase in a letter and felt completely stupid. She went to the fireplace and did the same thing she did with all the letters she received and watched it burn until its complete extinction.

 

The doorbell rang and Regina walked to the door. Victoria's laughter denounced her, and the brunette opened the door smiling.

 

"Wow!" She teased, leaning on a brunette with her hair mingled with shades of black, caramel and chocolate. Victoria wore a short white dress with thin straps, and it was amazing to see how the colour fit her so perfectly. It made her powerful, with airs of supreme elegance and financial power. "I said not-so-sexy, Carmen!"

 

Regina mentally thanked her friend for having preserved her identity, even though she knew she should not have expected anything else. The two entered the suite, and Victoria introduced her guest. "Carmen, mon amour, this is Ursula, a great friend; sweetheart, this is the famous Carmen Sandiego."

 

Three kisses were thrown to the air, and Ursula held Carmen's arms carefully. "You're a legend! I just did not think you were as beautiful as they say."

 

Regina swallowed the urge to ask how much friends they were - it wasn't any of her business, even though it aroused her curiosity. If Victoria trusted her, there was no reason to think otherwise. The brunette was dressed in jeans and a single front striped emerald green satin, which enhanced her tanned skin. Victoria walked over to Regina and kissed her cheek as she tightened the grip on her waist. "I don’t think you will end the night coming home alone."

 

 

They both smiled. Regina walked to her bag, making sure she had not forgotten anything. "By the way, where shall we go?"

 

"To the Cittie of Yorke."

 

Regina shook her head. She made sure nothing was out of place, and turned to the two women whispering to each other and giggling. "Let’s go. Do we need a car?"

 

"No. We came with the limousine, baby girl."

 

Regina smiled, meeting her friend's blue eyes. Teasing a little bit, she said. "How much luxury, Baroness."

 

"You know, darling. Money is a girl's best friend."

 

***

 

In a first superficial impression, Regina allowed herself to doubt Victoria's taste. The architectural structure of the facade was not exactly modern, and it was reminiscent of the revival of the British Tudor, very popular between the 15th and 17th centuries. A shrewd reconsideration was necessary - the hall was spacious and luxurious.There was a massive and noble wooden counter, several bottles gently lined up, gallons of various draft beers geometrically placed on the special plumbing.

 

Rumor has it that it had been a great cathedral, so the tables were in small cozy and discreet cabins, something like old booths of a confessional. Combined with the typical tenuous lighting of London pubs, it created an intimate and insinuating atmosphere, independent of its intention.

 

Obviously, the intention of Victoria and Ursula was quite different from hers. And there was a lot that Regina and her friend couldn’t talk to in front of the brunette, not because she was not trustworthy or being - the case is that Carmen Sandiego was too inquisitive to allow herself to be exposed to anyone. Ursula lowered her lips to Victoria's neck and hands began to slide all around, so Regina decided it was time to take a walk around the perimeter.

 

She walked over to the counter and leaned on it, bending herself over the old wood. She ran her fingers through her hair and tossed them to the side. She heard Victoria's laugh, but she did not bother to look at them - she knew her friend was having a good time. One of the girls came to her and Regina ordered another Ale beer. With the bottle in hand, she walked over to a small table near one of the targets on the wall. She deposited her bottle there, picked up a handful of darts, and began to hurl them. After hitting four darts in the green circle closest to the center target, she heard a male voice behind her.

 

"I’m not sure if it's a good thing for a man to be in your sight."

 

She turned and looked at the face of the man who was approaching her. She decided he was really, really handsome. Straight black hair, incredible blue eyes, and sparkling skin, almost too white. There was something in his gaze that was feline, practically like a predator analyzing the prey. He smiled, no intention of concealing malice.

 

"It depends on what I'm looking at in this man."

 

He stepped forward and held out his hand. "Damon Salvatore."

 

“Carmen.”

 

"Do you mind if I accompany you?"

 

She smiled, staring at him. "In fact, a beautiful company comes in handy."

               

"It's a significant compliment. Thank you."

 

“Stop the bullshit.” She teased, moving her body slowly around him, aware that he was watching her every step. “Look at your face. You know pretty well how good looking you are, Mrs. Salvatore."

 

"Just like you."

 

She smiled at him, staring into his blue eyes. She took another sip of her long beer without breaking eye contact, while the man also drank his. She picked up a few more darts and hurl at the target, hitting the green circle continuously.

 

"Do you live here, Damon?" She asked, not even looking at him.

 

"No. I'm from Barcelona, I just came to accompany my brother Stefan."

 

"And what are you looking for tonight?"

 

He bit his lip and she considered it extremely sexy. It was a must-see exemplary man. It had been so long since she had been with anyone - she could barely remember the feeling. She had lost herself in that absurd passion for a man she had no idea who he was.

 

"I didn’t come looking for anything. But I can say what I found."

 

Regina smiled and held out the dart in front of him. "If you hit the target in red, we'll go to a private place."

 

Damon approached her, leaning his head and almost closing the gap between them. He stopped, brushing his lips over hers, lingering, teasing her. Then, he held the visual contact, and whispered slowly, his voice became even more husky and smooth. “You can call a cab.”

 

***

 

Sitting on the couch, they were comfortable and much more intimate. Victoria did not argue about her friend leaving the pub - she looked at the spanish man over Regina's shoulder and whispered how she got along well, saying goodbye. There in the soft white couch, and with a goblet in her hands, she felt much lighter. Damon had removed his suit and was only wearing the blue social shirt that highlighted his killer eyes.

 

"It's a great hotel."

 

"I have nothing to complain about it."

 

"Have you ever built hotels like this?"

 

For a minute Regina wondered if he was crazy but she remembered the lie she had told him earlier, about being an architect. About being in London just for an international congress of sustainable architecture. Using too many disguises had its drawback.

 

"I actually build with a group of architects. We have a board, so the projects are elaborated by one of us and analyzed by others. So sometimes, I can say that some particular building was my idea."

 

"It seems a cheap chat-up line, but it's kind of ironic one piece of art building another?"

 

"You're right, Mr. Salvatore. It's a cheap one."

 

He smiled, and leaned his head against the couch. "Do you have any music here, Carmen?"

 

"There's a set on the counter, but I never handled it."

 

Damon got up and walked over to the set. She bit her lip and watched him lean against the counter, handling the device. His social clothes defined his body in a bold way, making visible the muscles that made him even more attractive. The social shirt fit his arm, skirting the bundles of muscle around his triceps. Her eyes were under his hip as she identified Stevie Wonder's voice and he turned around smiling.

 

"May I have this dance?"

 

She smiled, putting her hand over his. He pulled her closer, his hands tensing and finding their way to her waist. As they danced, interspersing slow steps, his fingers slid up and down her back, touching her leisurely; she sighed, the tips of her nails slipping down his back, shivering. Regina fit her face between his neck and shoulders, her nose touching the skin of his neck softly as she allowed herself to be engulfed by the essence of masculine perfume. His hands reached the lower part of her waist, the tips of his fingers lightly pressing her hip and she sighed, her mind slipping over what would happen if he lowered his hands a little. Regina put a hand on the back of his neck, caressing him there as he closed the distance between them, smashing her breasts against his chest. She was lost between the sensations and her love for Stevie's voice, but soon found the way back when Damon leaned forward and caught the lobe of her ear between his lips, sliding his tongue over it and sending waves of pleasure directly into the valley between her legs. She moaned softly, digging her nails into his shoulders so she would not lose her balance.

 

"I'm trying really hard not to rip this dress out of your body. If it's not what you want, Carmen, I'd better leave." The hoarse whisper rumbled against her skin.

 

"I’m not stopping you." She replied, turning away and brushing her hair back. Damon gently slipped the zipper, the tip of his fingers sliding down her body and causing her shivers. The dress fell at her feet, and he untied the clasp of her bra, knocking it down as well. Regina moaned as he hugged her, and she felt his body against her bare back. His hands covered her breasts in a delicate massage as he kissed her neck.

 

Regina turned quickly and he lowered his hands to her hip as he pressed them against him. She quickly opened the buttons of his shirt, her fingernails sliding across his muscular abdomen. He pulled off his belt, unbuttoned his pants and allowed it to fall to his feet.

 

"How do you want it, Carmen?" He whispered, kissing her neck and stroking the face that hypnotized him.

 

“Sit down on the couch. I'll take care of you.”

 

He smiled, and she pushed him so that he fell on the couch, feeling beyond enchanted by her. Regina caught him by the look as she slipped her panties down her legs and threw it to the floor, confident of her appearance. She walked over to him and sat down in that soft lap, rolling slowly over him. His hand tangled in her black hair and pulled hard, making her moan as they lost themselves in each other's body.

 

***

 

Far away, in a dark room, Robin watched the same scene. He drank his Haig Club Scotch as he stared at the screen of his notebook. She was a sin, a delightful and addicting sin. Carmen tossed her hair as she rolled once more on the guy's lap and moaned audibly, her soft and pleasant olive skin glowing at the screen, his fingers pressing the skin of her hip, helping her to keep the pace.

 

Robin slammed the notebook shut. Seconds later, he tossed his glass and bottle of expensive whiskey against the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you V. for being the best beta I could ask for;  
> Comments are very welcome, folks. Lemme know what y'all think


	5. The Whitehall Palace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to the better beta alive, V.

Like everything in London, the frontage of The Whitehall Palace did not reveal anything about it. It seemed typical of London behavior that outlined syndrome of euphemism, a need to show the rude and reserve the soft and delicate. On the outside, layers of hard, baroque architecture were decorated by skeletons of trunks that flourished at some point in their tiny lives - only the good old British grey.

 

Regina grabbed the little bag with her newly nails painted in black and smiled at one of the royal guards. He nodded, and she gently accompanied some couples heading toward the entrance. Much was said about the expensive marriages performed in the grand House of Banquets, but the thought only reaffirmed the concept of social poverty that she nourished for that nation. Something about their undesirable need to assert their hierarchy in the economy to the others. Biggest crap of all, she thought.

 

She crossed the corridor made by royal guards and smiled at a well-groomed blond and tucked into an Armani suit. "Eva Zambrano." She introduced herself, and after a brief conference on the list, the hostess signed for one of the security guards to clear her way. "Welcome to the Countess of Wandsworth's Great Beneficent Ball. Have a wonderful evening, Mrs. Zambrano."

 

Regina bit her lower lip as she entered the room. Her eyes were quickly seduced by the detailed paintings on the ceiling, and she set out to walk carefully, watching every detail, fascinated by the fullness of those works. It was phenomenal, as few things in her life had ever seemed to her. That was a very beautiful masterpiece. A demonstration of the longitude of human boundaries, a demonstration of how perfect human talent can become if taken advantage of. She felt limited by not having the slightest idea of what the story behind such a pretty panel was, but she nodded and stared into the crowded hall. There was a target to be hit. She could admire the painting later.

 

She walked through the crowd and quickly grabbed a glass of something. Sparkling, perhaps. It did not matter. A glass was always a great trump. She crossed the lobby, attracting the attention of some men, but she didn’t bother to face them back. She wondered if she could have found him there, but she knew it was a waste of time to think about it. The Raven would not go there. In fact, that's exactly why she was there.

 

In the center of the great hall were the large glass columns with the pieces on display. Regina came up to and smiled mischievously. She watched each piece. Her trained eyes could already calculate the weight and value of each one in at least three different currencies. It was something she no longer controlled; her mind working on the automatic. She approached The Ruby of Salazar. It was a big stone, but she could think how light it could be in a pocket. Once settled, it could go unnoticed - especially if it is some heavy clothing, like a prom dress or a tuxedo attached to the body. She smiled devilishly and passed through the pieces, walking toward the stairs leading to the top landing.

 

***

 

From the top floor, he had watched her since she had passed through the reception. Her hair brushed in an elegant bun, her delicate and striking face. Bright stones tinkled in her earrings. Her face was incredibly stunning, even more beautiful than the photos he had in his office. It was almost like watching a moving monument; as a work of art coming out of your favorite frame and coming to life.

 

He could see her immaculate white skin marked by her wine-colored gown. The dress had a stripe over the center of her lap, crossing the straight cut at the neckline. There was something elegant and at the same time extremely sensual about it. A kind of sophisticated seduction. Her skirt fluttered lightly, though one of her legs was fully exposed, and Robin could not look away from every inch of the stiff and defined muscles that appeared in his eyes. She had killer legs - there was nothing to be done. Her fleshy lips were half-open as she stared at the painted panel on the ceiling for some time, visibly delighted, and he continued to follow her up the hallway, watching every movement, every look she received, every smile she gave.

 

Robin was fully aware that there were more people listening. There were agents on the roof and agents in the parking lot, not counting Alvin and Thomas who were also featured in plainclothes inside the ball. The shooters were on the neighboring roof, but he hoped he would not have to put them in action. He watched her approach the pieces on display and held his breath. He didn’t know what to expect from her. He knew her modus operandi; he knew her codes; he knew her habits. But he had to admit that at that moment he was as layman as anyone else. He had lived millions of theories, and at that moment, he had the terrible duty to deal with the practice, with the moment where everything happened and it terrified him.

 

At the same time, there was unhealthy pleasure in the way she smiled at those pieces, as she watched them carefully, with almost love. He could not explain what he felt even if someone had given him a blank paper and asked him to draw it. It was too complex, even for him. He pulled away when he realized she was climbing the stairs and would soon be at his side.

 

***

 

She reached the upper landing. There was a band playing delicate versions of the classics, a mix of Tchaikovsky and Mozart, with a few hints of Vivaldi. Vivaldi was her favorite. All his compositions on the seasons inspired her soul in a surprising way, as if she would disintegrate and flow with the wind to every violin string that was played. Half a dozen couples were dancing there, seeking their measure of privacy, and she approached the parapet, watching the movement in the foyer. She loved the way the illumination reflected in the snow-covered white columns and spread out in an intimate atmosphere.

 

She noticed the reaction in the faces of the people watching the stones on display and smiled, delighted. An exaggeration. Aristotle had well said that happiness was not found in outer goods, and she believed in in. None of this was real to her, but she knew that for most of people who danced and celebrated there - that was their priority of life, their great reality to be lived. Great sparkling stones that were worth more than their lives exposed like beautiful pieces of steaks in a butcher's.

 

She was still walking and watching people when she tripped over a man. "Pardon," she asked, and he stared at her seriously, the typical seriousness that irritated her in the men of that city. But unlike what she expected, he smiled and she could better observe his features, deciding that he was definitely a handsome man.

 

"I apologize to you. I was completely distracted watching the painting." And he pointed at the ceiling, at the phenomenal painting she was admiring as soon as she set foot in that event.

 

Regina found herself enjoying his presence. He had not asked for her name, had not said his. He was the sort of reserved and suspicious person that pleased her the company. She hated ceremonies, and this event was filled with petty and self-seeking people who would pass through lengthy interrogations to have absolute proof whether or not she was influential enough to deserve any dialogue. Such a company would not do her any harm for a while. "It's a stunning panel. It was the first thing I stared at as soon as I walked through the door."

 

"Do you know the story behind it?" He asked with a bland tone, and she stared into the blue eyes, smiling discreetly. The history of those paintings was exactly what she had longed to know since she had passed the great rustic marble door. And if he did, she would definitely like him a little more.

 

"No."

 

"Do you even know who Peter Paul Rubens was?"

 

"Who?"

 

He smiled and placed his index finger over his lips. "Honestly, where are you from?"

 

"I am the nomad of the world," she replied, her gaze fixed on his.

 

"Right. But you better know that if some grumpy old man in the parliament listens it, you will hear a horrible scolding about disrespect to the homeland where you are being welcomed. Peter Paul Rubens was a Baroque painter, known for his works that blended mythology, history, religion and portraits in a way that always emphasized color and sensuality." She nodded and leaned against the parapet, no longer staring at him and staring at the beautiful painting on the ceiling. He went on. "He has painted many cathedrals and paintings that are in museums all over Europe. He showed great concern for transitional governments, with the religious influence behind the battles. He painted these panels for the ceiling of Whitehall Palace at the end of his days. In his last years of work. But his work is extensive. If it seems relevant, go deeper. It will be worth it."

 

She nodded, not taking her eyes off the painting. "But what's the story? Who are they?"

 

"Typical tourist," he mumbled, and she bit her tongue wanting to curse him for it. "The three largest panels are: The Union of the Crowns, The Apotheosis of James I and that there is The Pacific Kingdom of James I."

 

"He had a thing about this King James, huh?"

 

"I will consider 'a thing' as 'recognition for having been one of the best kings of this country.'"

 

"That's exactly what I meant," she said, imitating a small bow. She felt a strange sense of comfort as she spoke to him. In fact, she had developed interest in something that involved British history and he was the one to be blamed.

 

"James was supreme, but it was his son who made this place famous. King Charles I (I doubt you know who he is), was executed in this hall after being defeated in a battle. He uttered an iconic phrase at the beginning of that ladder, where the scaffold stood before being slain and made martyr for the whole nation."

 

"What did he say?"

 

“Something like…” Robin aligned his posture, imitating a king, and his voice got a firmer tone, something that for some reason made her eyes gain a distinct glow. “I have a good cause, and a gracious God and I’m won’t say anything more because I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no disturbance can be, no disturbance in the world.”

 

"You know that it does not make any sense, right?" She replied.

 

"Yes. But the story is beautiful. "

 

She smiled genuinely and he watched her with some fascination, but quickly composed himself.

 

"And what's your story?" He asked, turning to her. "Where is your Prince Charming?

 

"Prince?" She laughed. "I would not say I'm the princess of the story. And I definitely do not need princes. I'm the Queen."

 

He looked into her eyes with intensity, which made her feel internally uncomfortable. But she would never let this fact show in her eyes. She took a deep breath, resigned and he smiled shyly. "I have no doubts. No title wears you better than Queen. "

 

They exchanged a brief glance. "I need to leave. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you again during the great waltz."

 

"If you're a lucky man, maybe."

 

***

 

Regina was pacing the lobby when the royal guards came in and took the pieces to the safe. She followed every movement while she talked to a totally annoying and womanizing man but as much she ignored him it seemed to encourage him to speak even more. She knew the game and knew it was his trigger, but in a way, he kept her distracted from the strain of work.

 

She thought of the man who had spoken on the upper landing and smiled. The first brit she had ever liked, perhaps because it was a bit out of the ordinary. He was mysterious, but at the same time open and authentic. He had intelligence and a wide range of subjects to talk about, a rare attribute when it comes to men.

 

"Do you plan to stay for the after party, Ms. Zambrano?"

 

She had forgotten that he continued to talk to her until he placed his hand on her bare knee. Regina smiled and leaned over him with charisma, smiling at the people around while she approached him, aligning her lips to his ear and whispering in a sultry tone that only him would be allowed to hear. “"If you touch me one more time your last memories will be the muddy shades of grey at the bottom of the Thames River. I hope I had been clear."

 

He quickly removed his hand from her leg and she stood up smiling. "Excuse-moi."

 

***

 

Regina had gone to the ladies' room ten minutes ago when the electric power of the Palace collapsed. For exactly twenty-three seconds, emergency lights flashed and guards ran from side to side. Beams of red lights rose into the columns and quickly all the illumination was back, so that the guests paid no attention to the brief blackout. But Robin knew she was involved. There was something about the way she had come out smiling from the toilet, something about the way she walked that seemed even more imposing, even more self-assured. She had already done it. Somehow, she had got the Ruby. He could feel it, maybe with some extraterritorial sensor - it did not matter at the moment.

 

The sound of violins made themselves present in the foyer, and she smiled as his gaze met hers. He reached out and invited her to dance, so Carmen smiled and accepted elegantly. "Looks like you're a lucky man."

 

"Perhaps." he teased, and she gripped him carefully and firmly on his shoulders, her feet sliding lazily through the polished lobby floor. Music filled the room and she stared at him. There was something different in his eyes. The feeling of being unmasked became present, as if she were standing in front of a wide mirror.

 

"Something tells me there's a reason you did not introduce yourself when we met earlier." Her voice became different. It was not the same as the one who was talking amicably to him about centuries-old paintings. It was a loaded, sensual voice. A playful touch that resembled the touch of molten chocolate against bare skin. Something dense.

 

It was Carmen Sandiego's voice.

 

Robin didn’t answer. He reached down to the base of her spine and pulled her to himself, making her body bump into his. She moaned at the touch, but did not let him go. She was a player and he would play too. "So you know who I am," she continued. In a provocative way, she pulled the lapels of his tuxes tightly toward her. Then, with her palms open, she tapped the cloth against his chest. Their feets slipped back slowly, following the rhythm of the waltz.

 

"Tell me, where are you going to run when the guards come out screaming The Ruby's gone?" He whispered, lifting his arm and turning her, their hands never losing touch.

 

Carmen rolled her body sensually and slipped under his arm, returning to the starting position quickly. "Who do you work for, bad boy? I mean, that earpiece is anything but discreet. Which side are you on? Baryshnikov or Police?"

 

He slid her behind his back and then brought her back to his front elegantly. Any viewer without a trained eye would say they were just dancing as good partners. But it didn’t take much to feel the tension and the dispute. Something as primitive as the cat and the mouse playing catch.

 

"Who are you?" She insisted. Not because of fear or any other uncomfortable sensation. In fact, she was certain of the situation. She had a whole plan in her mind. It wasn’t a problem at all, even now. He stared at her with trained eyes, but there was no room for answer. The guards ran through the entrance doors to the hall and forced everyone to close the entrances. The Great Ruby of Salazar had been stolen. No one would leave until all were properly inspected.

 

Robin looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "And now, Carmen, what are you going to do?"

 

"I'm not with him."

 

He laughed. "Right. And I practice circus gymnastics."

 

"I've heard it's good for pelvic movements."

 

He stared at her as she smiled maliciously. She watched as a man and a woman stopped short behind her. "Are you coming voluntarily or we carry you?" Robin asked.

 

"I can walk. This dress is a real Gucci. The only hand he needs to know is mine."

 

***

 

 

In a closed room, Regina had noticed some important facts. First, Interpol was on her heel, much more than she personally planned. After going through the survey and a meticulous scanner for at least ten times, she had been released.

 

"She's not with him, Robin."

 

Regina turned to him with wide eyes. "Robin? Robin McLocksller?"

               

"Yes," replied the blue-eyed british. And there her great theory of her persecutor vanished. Robin McLocksller was not an old derisory man tired of his long years as an officer in the old-fashioned Interpol squad. He was not a grumpy old man who did not enjoy his old lady any more and had fun observing an international criminal with a gorgeous face. He was handsome. Intelligent. And worst of all, he was… appealing.

 

"That's why you did not want to say your name before. Because I would know who you are. "

 

"Are you surprised, Her Majesty?" He sneered.

 

"Just thought you'd be.. dirtier.”

 

"I'll count it as a compliment."

 

She rolled her eyes and faced a gray-haired officer. "By my right as a citizen, is there anything here that can be used as an indictment or I am free to go?" The other officers looked at her with some fear and the older man nodded.

 

"No, ma'am. You are released. Sorry for the inconvenience."

 

"No problem." She smiled and walked up to face Robin. "When we collaborate with the righteousness of men, we go from corrupt to incorruptible. Is not that right, Agent McLocksller?"

 

Robin nodded and she left him behind as she crossed the outer corridor with a devilish grin on her face.

 

***

 

On the inner side of the Banquet House, Male Baryshnikov watched the whole movement. With a glass of liquor in her hand, she slid the expensive Valentino and sat down in the padded chair, talking to the blond girl in front of her. "Tell them I'll buy all the pieces left over."

 

As soon as the hostess stepped away, she turned to Khoe. "Call Zanic and Lovak. I want the three of you in pursuit of her. She's going after The Ruby. I’m not sure how, but that woman removed him from here. Bring me the stone. And bring me the woman. If it can’t be alive, bring her dead. I don’t care."

 

They were still standing. "Быстро, идиот" _(Quickly, idiot)_


	6. Je ne sais pas

His eyes were fixed on the line of noble guests awaiting release when he heard the familiar beep in his ear.

 

"Beta for Major. Carmen is being chased by three men.I have identified one of them as one of Male Baryshnikov's security guards. Should we interfere?"

 

Robin came down the stairs quickly. He waved a parallel signal to Holmes, who nodded and followed him. "Major for Beta. Me and Agent Holmes are on the way, give us coordinates."

 

"There's a van standing in front of the side exit. It'll take you to one of the intersecting streets."

 

Robin crossed the entrance behind the exaggerated volume of people with the insignia in hand. He rushed to the vehicle; he pulled the door open and stepped in, followed by the other officer. The vehicle quickly started off west.

 

***

 

The big problem with Hollywood films about espionage was the lack of truthfulness. Mata Hari would look like a duck if she had to run through the streets of London with a pair of Salvatore Ferragamo. There was nothing fancy or sophisticated about it. Running through the alleys, Regina cursed herself for choosing those shoes; she wasn’t questioning the comfort or aesthetics (they were beautiful) but they made too much noise for those who needed discretion. There’s nothing more fatal when you're running away from three russians than a noisy shoe.

 

She was not going to take them off either. Regina refused to run the streets like a thoughtless teenager at fifteen years old. She was a professional and would handle the situation. Breathing audibly, she looked around and saw one of them running south. In the darkness in which she was submerged - the shadow of an irregularly erected house on the facade of a residence - she analyzed her routes. One of the ramifications of the irrigation system was five hundred meters ahead. She could use a car but the police would soon be involved and she did not need more people looking for her. The entrances of the hotels were in fact a trap of great proportion and an obvious choice.

 

"She went that way, you piece of shit."

 

She hold her breath as two of them passed a few feet down the street. She waited some more time and ran forward, ducking into a dark alley. From there she could run to Whitehall A3212 and with luck, she would be surrounded by a very large audience, preventing them from attacking her. It was her only chance to address herself to a point of safety.

 

She was running inside the narrow alleys when she felt herself being pushed against one of the walls and got off balance. She heard something in russian but she didn’t understand the meaning. Firm hands gripped her hair and she reacted, punching him at the forearm and destabilizing the strength of his lower limbs. But he was strong, and he threw the weight of his body over her, pressing her against the wall before pulling her back through her hair and throwing her to the floor. Regina felt the thud but quickly looked around; adrenaline flowed uninterrupted in her blood, and she could feel her heart racing - she did not expect that Baryshnikov was really going to take any steps. None of it was part of her plans too. Feeling exhausted, she continued to grope across the dark floor and suddenly she found a rock, so she held it firmly in her fingers. Lovak approached her, his rough hands looking for her thin neck but she countered, hitting his head and knocking him over.

 

Regina knew how crucial this moment was; the brief seconds when the power of decision hangs over her hands, the sweet and tempting taste of blood, the magnetization of the adrenaline released by the violent impulse - and she knew it was easy to lose control. She stopped beating Lovak. Her fingers were stained with blood as she threw the stone beside the unconscious man, and ran again. But she had only distanced herself a few yards when she heard a grunt and did not have to look back to know that one of the russians had found the bloody partner. She continued to run, but Khoe came out of the darkness and held her, lifting her up into the air and knocking her to the ground. The impact brought tears to her eyes.

 

"Bring her here," one of them mumbled, and she looked around. There was nobody. That area, in particular, was of almost non-existent motion; an unarticulated perimeter. It was for this reason that she had defined it as a good escape plan, she just could not imagine what she would need to escape from it. Forced to kneel, she lifted her head and smiled at the russian, who slapped her in the face. "Where's the gem?"

 

"Je ne sais pas" She replied, showing all the calm of the world.

 

"We know you're with it, Carmen. You will give us the fucking gem, dead or alive. It’s your choice."

 

"I'm not with that ruby. Ask the cops who inspected me at the Banquet House."

 

Khoe laughed. She heard his voice behind the back of her neck, but remained motionless. "Our boss warned us about you, Carmen Sandiego. She wants you, alive or dead. And believe me, our preference is not taking you alive."

 

She swallowed dry as the russian in front of her pulled a Korovin TK revolver from his waist. There was no plan B, there was no escape route. For the first time at night, she felt fear. Where was The Raven now? She was seconds away from getting more than one shot. She didn’t know what to feel, but she knew that of all the endings she had envisaged for her life, none of them included her kneeling in a dark London street in front of a russian with a rodent brain. He turned off the safety catch with a devilish grin on his thin and cracked lips. "Last chance: where the fuck is the gem?"

 

"Ask your mother, bastard russian."

 

He wield the gun and aim it at her, but someone hit him and lifted his arm. A shot was made high and she swallowed hard as she identified the Interpol officer. The corporal struggle for possession of the revolver continued; Regina reasoned quickly and knocked Khoe down. It was too easy for her to play on the floor; her knowledge of martial arts would serve her well. She grabbed the sleeve of his cheap suit and pulled his arm, inflicting a certain amount of pain on him as she wrapped her legs around his neck. She didn’t have to use much force; a continuous pressure on the carotid was enough for him to struggle for some time and then he fainted. Regina pushed him away. The brunette looked over her shoulder and was getting up when she heard McLocksller's voice shouting her codename.

 

It all happened in milliseconds. She heard a shot and he fell at her feet; in sequence he raised his own weapon and hit the russian. Her mouth went dry as she knelt beside him and noticed the blood on the officer's shoulder. "Are you alone, McLocksller?"

 

There was no response. The howl of pain that escaped from his lips made a shiver run through her body. She looked around, making sure there was no one else chasing them. Shit, holy shit of the shittier shits. Trying to think clearly, she dropped her hands to his hips and untied his belt. Robin stared at her with confused eyes as he felt her pull the piece from his waist. "I’m not going to hurt you" she whispered. Regina slipped the belt behind his back and crossed it over his shoulder, making a sling with his belt and keeping his arm suspended and immobilized. She helped him up and put his free arm behind the back of her head, allowing him to use her like an improvised crutch. "We need to get out of here. Where is your team?"

 

"I ... I've lost touch. My earpiece was damaged."

 

"Merde."

 

Regina was trying to work out a new plan when strong headlights blinded her. She felt her stomach twist with the expectation of who would be driving that white Vorsteiner; so, when the headlights were went out, she felt nothing but an absurd sense of relief. Sitting on the lavish red leather bench, with her long blond hair brushed to the side and wearing a gorgeous fur coat, Victoria smiled at her.

 

***

 

“How did you know where I was?"

 

"I know what I need to know, darling. You were in trouble."

 

Regina looked at Robin lying on the backseat. He was sweating a lot and groaning low; possibly because of the contaminated weaponry used by the russians. That bullet had to be taken out. Her gaze met the blonde's as she looked forward again. "What?" She mumbled. Victoria seemed to read her mind as if there was no way the brunette could hide anything at all.

 

"What do you think you're doing?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Victoria looked at her sideways. "Do you know who _he_ is?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Carmen..."

 

"This shot was made to hit me, what should I do? Let him die in the middle of the street? I'm not that person and you know that, Vic."

 

"Where are we going?"

 

"St. Katherine's Pier."

 

Victoria snorted. "Are you kidding me? Are you going to take him to the Raven's yacht? In fact, the perfect subject for the moment. Where was the Raven when you almost took another shot? How long are you going to defend him?"

 

"Victoria, please."

 

The blonde accelerated the McLaren vehicle even more. She was irritated; Regina insisted on this absurd version of love for someone who might have been a refuge in the beginning - but distanced himself from this definition every day. "You could be dead right now, don’t you get it?"

 

"I know that."

 

"So think carefully about what you're doing, whether it's worth continuing with this system. I really do not want to live in a world where you do not exist, baby girl. I promised I'd take care of you, but please don’t make it harder for me.”

 

Her and Regina exchanged a brief glance, enough to fill the brunette's chocolate-colored eyes with shiny tears.

 

***

 

Robin got out of the car with some difficulty. Sitting on a wooden bench, he watched Carmen's interaction with The Devil. It was almost disloyal to call them that at that moment; the context couldn’t make them look more innocent than anyone else. Carmen was herself with the baroness; the affectionate bond was perceptible in the way she smiled, in the glittering curve in her eyes. They exchanged a few words and Victoria kissed her lips for a few seconds, a tender and intimate touch of lips.

 

As the blonde stepped away, returning to the parked car, Carmen turned to him. She looked exhausted. She put his arm around her neck again and they walked together toward the boats.

 

***

 

"Just answer me one question: what the fuck do you have in your mind?" She asked as she tilted her shoulder and helped him move and sit on the yacht's padding. The silence on the boat indicated that they were alone there. She had guided the vehicle for at least thirty minutes, according to his calculations. They were in the sea, but not far from the coast.

 

Robin moaned in pain and closed his eyes for a few seconds. As soon as he opened them again, he found her in front of him, her dress torn by the escape, and a knife in her hands. She followed his gaze to the knife and smiled. "Don’t worry, if I wanted you dead I would have left you for the russians."

 

He swallowed slowly and she took a lighter from the coffee table, triggering the intense flame and placing the knife on it. "We need to take out the bullet before it gets more infected."

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

She looked up and saw the wounded man staring at her with inquisitive eyes. For a few moments, they remained one in the other's gaze accompanied by the soothing sound of the sea. "If you knew me as well as you say, McLocksller, you would know the answer.” She smiled, but there seemed to be some melancholy in her eyes. "I'm not a murderer. I do not like people dying for me.” She stared at him, a serious countenance and a pair of flaming orbits that seemed to suck the blue of his eyes like a wild vortex. “You prevented me from being shot, and I'm repaying the favor."

 

"Who would knew a thief have honor?" He teased her.

 

“Who would knew that an Interpol agent would stand in front of a bullet to save a thief?”

 

Embarrassed, Robin looked around and for the first time he noticed the luxury of the yacht where they were. "Where is the owner of this yacht?"

 

She smiled as she put the cigarette lighted on the table. "If I knew, you'd be the last one I'd say."

 

Robin shook his head, smiling. It was obvious. Carmen put her hair behind her ear and approached him. She pulled his legs apart and knelt between them, so that their line of sight remained aligned. Carefully, her fingers reached for the tuxedo lapel and she asked for permission through the gesture, and he granted. She slid the cloth over her shoulders, removing the piece from him and placing it folded over the other sofa. The white social shirt had a burgundy red stain, and she unbuttoned the buttons without any hurry. It could be a sensuous scene, Carmen Sandiego kneeling between his knees and unbuttoning his clothes - except for the context where he was bleeding and she would stick a knife in his collarbone in order to remove the bullet.

 

She imagined he would have a beautiful body, and was not surprised. Police officers underwent extensive training and almost always needed her physical endurance, so when she removed his social shirt and threw it on the floor, her eyes roamed the man's torso with some admiration. "It's going to hurt a little." She warned him and he just nodded. She got up and went to the bathroom, coming back quickly with a little iodine and a few cotton swabs. For some reason, it took longer than necessary to disinfect the area. Perhaps it was the pleasant warmth of having him so close, perhaps she was fascinated by the softness of his skin beneath her fingers. She just ... did not want to lose that contact so soon.

 

But she had to do it. She groped around and took the knife, inserting it firmly in his flesh. The pain was deep and uncomfortable, but it did not last long. Either the bullet was in some superficial tissue or she was really experienced in this sort of thing; regardless of the answer, the pinnacle of pain had passed and she had placed something metallic on his fingers. "Hold the cotton in the place."

 

He watched her go to the bar and fill a glass with a drink. Carmen came back and handed the glass to him. "Drink. It'll help you with the pain."

 

"Why are you involved in all this?"

 

She smiled, and not for the first time that night, Robin saw the flash of something sad in her eyes. "Because I love him."

 

"How can you love someone you don’t know?"

 

She smiled. "Do you believe in God, Mr. McLocksller?"

 

"It's not the same thing."

 

"We do not see God, but we believe in Him, we devote our faith and worship to Him. We thank Him for what He gives us daily but we have never seen Him."

 

"The Raven is not God, Carmen. It's a cowardly man who hides himself behind a secret identity."

 

She smiled, staring at him as if she knew something he did not know. "It's your opinion, but thank you for sharing."

 

"Would you fall in love with an ordinary man?"

 

She kept her lips half-open, looking at him with some surprise. "What is an ordinary man, McLocksller? An Interpol agent?"

 

He paled and she smiled, amused.

 

"That's not what I meant."

 

"You're a good man, Robin. You need to find a woman to make you evolve, to come into your life to add, to change. And believe me, I really pray for you to find her and be happy. This life we both have is empty and unhappy.”

 

He took a deep breath and she distanced herself from him, taking the shirt off the floor. He realized she refused to look at him, to meet his eyes. It was as if she had suddenly realized that she was vulnerable, that she had exposed herself more than she liked. "There must be some clean shirt in the closet, I'll check. Lie down and rest.Tomorrow we'll come back the coast. It will not be safe to come back sooner."

 

He nodded and she disappeared into the cabin without looking back. Agonized, Robin let out all the air in his lungs in an audible growl. Everything he had discovered until now was nothing more than speculation. It was real there. That was really happening there. And the only thing he knew - for sure - was that Carmen Sandiego was far more complex than he dared to imagine.


	7. I'm sorry

Carmen got up early. Robin had not slept all night, not from the pain - he felt practically nothing - but from the confusion in his mind. At the same time that he did not want to let her go, his instincts warned him. If it were not for her, he would be dead.

               

She appeared in a grey dress, her hair well combed, her face flawless. Carmen Sandiego, at your service. It was almost as if she were a beautiful painting, and it was unbelievable to remember that she was a criminal who wielded weapons with the ease of a lady holding a hairbrush. She smiled and handed him a social shirt, and when he dressed it he realized it was exactly his number. Her eyes never left him, watching intently as he wore it.

 

“It fits you well.”

 

He nodded, and she smiled. Robin put the tuxedo back on and lined up. "You know I can’t let you go, right?"

 

"Not if I promise to behave?" She teased, running her tongue through her teeth and smirking provocatively as she stared at him. “Stop lying to yourself, McLocksller. You can’t keep me. If you were going to arrest me, you would have done it. You watch every step of my way. The truth is that I am the bait you need to catch the Raven. It's okay with me. You already inspected me and Salazar's Ruby is not with me. What's the next claim?"

 

Robin pondered what she had said and understood that there were only valid arguments. She was right. He shrugged his shoulders in surrender and she smiled. "Come on, we have to get to Saint Katherine."

 

***

 

As she drove the yacht, Regina had time to think about what had happened. Where was the Raven at that moment? At the moment she would get shot in the back? If it were not for the man wounded in the inner cabin of the yacht, she might be dead. Male’s henchmen would catch her and she would not want to think about what they would do with her later.

 

Was she going too far? For him? Robin had no idea he was still a part of the plan and it was better that way. She felt guilty about it. He was not a bad man. He was a decent man, perhaps a little obstinate for the wrong reason, but morally correct. She had forgotten what it was like to have a man caring for something more than her naked body and for a few seconds, she wanted badly to kiss those lips. Seconds of which she regretted. Not getting involved in the missions was the first lesson of any intelligent thug and she wasn’t going to sin at something so simple.

 

She was going to leave him at Saint Katherine and then disappear.

 

"Is it alright?"

 

His voice caught her attention and she turned to him without letting go of the steering wheel. His accent was pretty addictive. "Ouí." He was handsome. He'd straightened his hair and washed his face, it looked so much better than the night before. With his hands in his pocket and his tuxedo tied, she laughed. Was he aware of how easily identifiable he was?

 

"Are you laughing at me?"

 

"Sorry."

 

Robin smiled, which caught her attention because he was too Londonish and serious. "At least can I have the privilege of knowing why?"

 

"I'm thinking how easy it is to identify you. Your suit, your hair, your posture. It all screams undercover agent. It's kind of comical."

 

"Are you serious?"

 

"I shouldn’t tell you that, but yes, even a child can identify you."

 

He looked at her in silence, thoughtful. "I'll think about it later. Thanks."

 

"May I ask you a question, Mr. McLocksller?"

 

He shook his head, staring into her chocolate-colored eyes. "Robin, call me Robin."

 

"McLocksller is better." She cut him. "I will understand as yes. So, is there a woman in your life? Children? Is there a human behind the mega-efficient agent?”

 

He smiled again and she loved the curve of his lips, noting that he looked even more handsome."I don’t have time for anything that’s not my job. It's what makes me, as you say, mega-efficient."

 

"Work is nothing without an anchor that keeps us sane."

 

He thought of those words and considered a very noble phrase. "Correct, and what keeps you sane, Carmen?"

 

"If I had an anchor, you would never hear about me again."

 

He stared at the approaching pier and they both remained silent, meditating on their own answers and on how revealing they seemed to be. They docked at the dock. Robin helped her down and she felt slightly spoiled. Standing there, they stared at each other for a few seconds. There was something between them that always resulted in deep and intense visual contact. "From here can you find your way?" She asked.

 

He nodded and leaned down, kissing her cheek and keeping his lips on her skin for a few seconds longer than necessary. She smiled at his intention and shrugged, as if she were cold.

 

"Take my tuxedo, you'll get a cold."

 

"No need."

 

"I insist." He replied, removing the piece and placing it on her shoulders. Following an impetus of sudden courage she tugged at his white shirt, putting his body closer to her. She tilted her face, bringing both faces together and brushed her lips against his. But she did not kiss him.

 

"I’m sorry."

 

Before he understood what she was apologizing for, she pulled away, back to the yacht and untying the knot. Robin watched as the boat moved away from the pier. When she was at a safe distance, he pull off his tuxedo and pull something out of one of his pockets.

 

He narrowed his eyes. It was a joke, was not it? From a distance, he observed the large red stone in her hands and the wicked smile with which she presented it. The Great Ruby of Salazar was with him, all the time. Carmen waved at him before starting the engine and moving away quickly. He stared at the floor in disbelief, realizing that he had been fooled by Carmen Sandiego once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to know what y'all are thinking...


	8. St. Martin In The Fields

Regina had never been very religious. She had her beliefs in a good, dignified and loving God, but she had not learned about the ritual of devotion that was exercised by the majority. So, among the few places that pleased her in London, St Martin In the Fields had its position. The church that looked more like a Greco-Roman building with its huge concrete columns and the unreachable right foot reflected something less heavy and somewhat more witty than the great and scary-looking cathedrals. She walked into the place with her tight black dress and hat of the same color. The black gloves and high heel completed the look completely dark; at first glance she appeared to be just an elegant widow present at that mass.

 

She sat down in one of the last rows of wooden benches; a dark and very pretty wood. There was something in the essence of London, something very intrinsic to the historical past that made everything has that aura of nobility and aristocracy. She stared at the ceiling and admired for some time the beautiful paintings divided by what appeared to be a frame of liquid gold. The priest spoke about Pharaoh's disbelief in the divine warnings and how it brought upon him the heavy responsibility for all the horrendous plagues that plagued his people. Regina took a deep breath and stared at the people watching intently, searching for something that was not there. She was unhappy. She hoped The Raven would understand her message.

 

Of all those years in which she had carefully served his services, she had had two setbacks. One of them, she had to admit - one was her own fault and exclusively hers. She had disobeyed an orientation and wanted to act on her own, and the result was that it had almost been her last assignment. But this time, she was following the schedule. She did exactly as she was told. But she ended up with a weapon aimed at her.

 

If the shot had hit her, there would be nothing the Raven could do. He would not go back in time. If it were not McLocksller, she would be dead. If it were not Victoria, she would be in trouble. She was pretty angry with her protector, whoever he was. She no longer felt the comforting security that she used over her shoulders like a fur coat. Interpol certainly wanted her dead now, and if not the whole agency, she knew someone who definitely wanted to. Uncertainty was back after many years. Her trained mind told her to return to her home, a forgotten island in the middle of the ocean where no one would find her. But if she left, she would be gone without any doubt - she was getting tired of them and getting tired of the secrets.

 

Did Robin hate her? Possibly. She remembered his reaction after seeing the ruby in her hands, his eyes half closed, the transparent disbelief of those who had been deceived. She felt bad for being disloyal. The original plan was simple, Robin would remove the stone from Whitehall Palace without realizing it; she would take the stone from him without him noticing. But the situation got complicated and of all the possible complications that she had imagined, he saving her life was the most unexpected of them. Her guideline guided her to follow the plan. He proved to be a genuine gentleman and she used that to take advantage of him, proving that she was right about something - he was too decent for a woman like her.

 

Regina was looking at the priest when a woman stood up and stared at her for some time. She was young, had long dark brown hair in cascades, golden eyes and a delicate face. The woman got up and walked down the stairs to the basement, but before she disappeared, she lifted her wrist with discretion and demonstrated the tattoo of a raven on it quickly, making sure only she saw it. Regina gave herself some time, waiting for someone else to react to the almost secret gesture, but there was no change. She waited a few more minutes in silence, her heart starting to accelerate with latent anxiety. She got up and walked toward the stairs where the other woman had gone.

 

***

 

**FLASHBACK ON**

 

_Far away, in a cabinet full of large windows located in the district of Westminster, a cell phone rang twice and was promptly answered._

 

_"McLocksller."_

_"We found the boat."_

_"Any sign of the jewelry or Carmen?"_

_"Negative, Sir. But we found something that might interest you."_

_"Send me the photos."_

_Robin hung up the phone and walked to his desk, ignoring Gold, Killian, and August. "You're in the middle of a meeting, Robin," August warned._

_"An unnecessary crap meeting."_

_"We would not be in an unnecessary meeting if you had not been distracted by the beauty of Carmen Sandiego and let her escape," August mumbled, a sly smile on his lips._

_Robin stare at the man as if he were about to pluck his eyeballs with a pen and lifted his body elegantly into his Kingston suit. "If I had not been abandoned at the crime scene by my team, we would have Carmen and we would have the Salazar Ruby. Meanwhile, a junior officer, a petty officer in my squad - our dear Agent Killian Jones, who is right here, ordered them to abort the mission on the grounds assuming that I had been shot down. Think twice before pointing that hypocritical finger at me, August. Or I'll start talking about the wife you visit when you're off duty."_

_Robin turned his attention to the screen of his monitor and focused his attention on the photos that were coming to his email. In one of the windows of the expensive yacht, she had drawn a crow. By the color and consistency of the material, the agents easily deduced to be some type of lipstick. Inside the crow, there was a extended palm, but it looked like it had been made with another type of tincture. Robin finished reading the report of first instance._

_Blood. She had marked her palm with her own blood. He knew all the details, codes, every message she had exchanged with The Raven over the years and it didn’t fit into any category. What was she trying to say?_

 

**FLASHBACK OFF**

 

***

 

The Coffee in the Crypt could definitely be defined as one of London's gems. A coffee shop in the church crypt. It sounded both luxurious and gloomy. Regina came down the stairs, her heart pounding, her fingers sliding over the drizzled walls with a bicentennial concrete. One of the waiters passed her and smiled, making her spirit sigh a little less apprehensive.

 

She saw the brunette at one of the tables in the corner, accompanied by two glasses of wine. She was worried about her identity. Could the Raven be a woman? She had never considered this hypothesis. Despite the walls of beaten bricks and fragmented concrete, the furniture was considerably modern. Wooden counter; well-designed tables covered with adornments made of imported bamboo and soft chairs. She walked to the table where the mysterious woman was waiting for her and sat down.

 

"I hope you like the wine. It was the best I found on the menu."

 

Regina stared at the velvety voice. "Who are you?"

 

She smiled. Her perfect teeth gleamed as she looked around like someone who found this situation very funny. "I'm not the Raven, Carmen. I just work for him. My name is Ruby Lucas."

 

"That’s your real name or your work name?"

 

"Unlike you, I just have one name."

 

Regina pondered the answer and allowed herself a sip of the wine. It was fabulous. She watched the woman bend the sleeve of her long-sleeved shirt and put her hair gently to the side. "The Raven understood your message. That's why I'm here. I never came to the field. I never had to run errands for him, so should I assume that's an important issue?"

 

Regina took another sip of her glass. "You're the spokesperson."

 

"How deductive of you. Tell me, what is the subject?"

 

"I want to talk to him. Not with you. I'm sorry if it sounds rude or impolite, but I take an extra risk for this job. The least he should do is give me what I asked for."

 

"Did you know that on wednesdays they have a jazz show here?" Teased the brunette with long hair, causing Regina to roll her eyes and try to get up; but at the mention of movement, Ruby stopped playing and took hold of her hand carefully. "Carmen, stop. I’m sorry. He said you'd say something like that."

 

"And yet he sent you."

 

"He asked me to bring you this."

 

Ruby then took a disposable phone out of her pocket and handed it to Regina. As soon as her fingers reached the machine, she felt it vibrate. She looked up at the younger woman in front of her, who smiled discreetly. "This message is not for me."

 

Regina disabled the automatic lock and found an open instant messaging application.

 

THERAVEN: Hi, Regina.

 

DEVICE87: How will I know it's you? That sounds like a trap.

 

THERAVEN: Ask me anything.

 

DEVICE87: My father’s name.

 

THERAVEN: Henry Mills.

 

DEVICE87: One of the defects of the Katherine diamond.

 

THERAVEN: It had a deformity caused by a stonecutter.

 

She smiled.

 

DEVICE87: The lipstick I’m wearing.

 

THERAVEN: Apple’s pie, Chanel. Are you convinced?

 

A smile welled up on her lips as she pressed the touch screen anxiously. She had never actually talked to him, not in real time. It was a new reality and made it sound even more vividly in her head. It was real, and it was happening.

 

THERAVEN: What do you need?

 

DEVICE87: I need answers.

 

THERAVEN: All you want.

 

DEVICE87: How will I know how to distinguish you at the right time? I don’t know anything about you. Anyone could even pretend to be you if they have the right information.

 

THERAVEN: You’re right.

 

DEVICE87: I don’t give a damn fuck about being right. I want to leave. If I can not have you, I don’t want the job anymore.

 

THERAVEN: Regina, you can’t leave me.

 

DEVICE87:  And you can? What would have happened if that officer had not been in front of a bullet for me? Would you hire another girl and make her your new number one? Is this how I am meaningful? I don’t want it anymore. I'm leaving the agency.

 

THERAVEN: Regina, trust me. We'll meet soon. I promise.

 

DEVICE87: Promises are just words, and words are just empty air.

 

THERAVEN: I know things seem bad now. But I want you to save some words: It's always darkest before the dawn.

 

DEVICE87: What am I supposed to do with this piece of nothing in phrase form?

 

THERAVEN: Just don’t forget. This is going to be our secret message. Are you going to leave London?

 

DEVICE87: I will go to Italy. You can meet me there if you want (:

 

Before he answered, she returned the cell phone to Ruby. With a delicate movement, Ruby placed the cell phone inside her glass filled with the expensive wine. Regina smiled. Obviously, that conversation could not exist and now no one would know of its existence except them both.

 

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Ruby asked.

 

Regina shook her head. "A flight to Italy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thank you to my beta and second mom of this story, V.   
> Thanks for the kudos, guys


	9. Venice

She was happy. Walking along Piazza San Marco, in the heart of Venice, Regina was just another tourist. Wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, comfortable sneakers and a small backpack with some documents. A cap covered her hair from the exposure of the Italian sun. The guide that she had taken from the hands of a shy girl at the airport told her that it had been the scene of processions and important political meetings - although all she saw was the majestic beauty, the imposing presence of Basilica di San Marco.

 

She walked to the entrance of the church built in Byzantine architecture and observed the way the concrete columns aligned and formed a beautiful symmetrical image. She looked up and stared at the gold-colored painting at the top of the great entrance. One of the things she loved most in Europe was its ability to carry the past into the present, to remember the nation's background in every little artistic detail.

 

As she entered the cathedral, her eyes shone with excitement. The guide said eight thousand meters of mosaics, but she had not relied on an exaggerated description. But that was beyond her capacity for imagination. The walls were painted with the purest gold, a brilliant gold that shine so brightly that it almost melted under Renaissance paintings. The dazzle was not optional, she was sure of it. She realized there were few tourists. Possibly it was a low-season month - she had forgotten what it was to have the right date to travel.

 

She stepped into one of the corridors and plunged into the guts of that golden world. Her heart vibrated. She had forgotten what it is like to be one person. What feels like to be just a girl visiting a tourist spot, a face in the crowd, someone living their life. She was so accustomed to being an international criminal and reference point that she had forgotten the woman she had been before. Looking at those paintings and filling herself with inspiration, she allowed herself to wonder about what was going on in her life at that moment and what she was going to do from then on. Her mission was over. She could leave the agency, get off the Raven forever, and go back to her island. Nothing prevented her from leaving. But why did she feel that something was missing?

 

The thought brought Robin to the surface and she smiled. She liked him. Not that it mattered, after she had betrayed him, she knew he would spare no effort to put her in jail. He would investigate Victoria and watch the blonde in an attempt to catch her. He would stamp her face on every fifty inches of the streets of London so that no citizen would forget her. She didn’t blame him. No pawn likes to be used, even if at the end of the move the Queen suffers a checkmate.

 

Regina went downstairs and thought she saw a figure just behind her. She decided it was time to leave, she wasn’t in a position to put herself in risky situations.

 

***

 

It took less than five minutes. The Danieli Hotel, located just two hundred meters from Piazza San Marco, had become her home during her days in Venice. Calling it home, however, seemed a gesture of almost guttural snobbery. Distributed in three buildings of supreme luxury built centuries ago, it became a legendary choice of wealth and comfort for visitors seeking architecture, history and culture without leaving their rooms.

 

As she passed the gorgeous reception desk and started up the red velvet-lined staircase, one of the clerks, dressed in his classic uniform, waved to her. "Mrs. Decker.” He held out the green suede envelope and she smiled shyly, holding it. "Your correspondence."

 

"Merci."

 

The brunette walked to her suite and opened the envelope on the way. One of the advantages of such a luxurious hotel was privacy. Few people could afford such a lodging. So the probability of finding someone in the hallways was almost nil. The guests showed great reserve and discretion, almost as if they wanted to be invisible in the midst of so much luxury. It had been two weeks since she had left London. She had not received any sign of him in Rome, and she had been there for five days. Was it a new mission?

 

She stepped into the suite and walked over to the white velvet couch, laying on it. She tore the envelope closed with a red wax button that carried the drawing of a crow, and read the contents. Her eyes first slid through the letters in a hurry, but gradually the pace slowed until her eyes paralyzed in some part of the writing. He was not proposing that. No. It was insane, even to him. She smiled, though she was not amused. It was not an idea at all.

 

Regina settled herself on the couch, her shoulders strained as she straightened her spine and sat correctly aligned. She read the contents of the letter again. She wasn’t going to accept it - she couldn’t. She knew what would be the end of something so stupid. Or she would die in a crappy string on commission from the officers she made fools of, or by order of Male. Or die during the mission. She would not leave alive. Suddenly, like a shooting star crossing the sky on a dark night, her thoughts lit up and a line of reasoning came into view.

 

She had asked to leave and he was going to kill her.

 

Stunned, she walked over to the fireplace and put the envelope and its contents over the fire, watching the paper silently turn to ash, disappearing almost poetically. She didn’t want to believe that the man she was utterly in love with was sending her on a suicide mission. _It's our last mission, I promise you. The last mission._ The letter said. _We'll have enough money to buy the whole world. Just trust me._

 

***

 

Regina was in the fourth glass of whiskey. She was not at all a fan of the drink, she thought it was strong, too intense for her somewhat more classic taste. But to appease the fuzzy feelings that bubbled inside her, it was more than necessary an extra incentive. Walking from one place to another, she felt nervous and anxious. Her trained mind was already working for the next mission, even though she had told herself that she would never accept such a proposal.

 

_We'll steal the royal treasure of London._

He had gone mad.

 

First, she had no will, no eagerness or desire to return to London. London had ceased to be an indifferent place, it was almost undesirable and unacceptable to her. But with the right contacts .... She shook her head, freeing herself from those thoughts. She was not going to accept it. She would catch a flight the next morning and return to her island.

 

She finished the drink and walked to the porch. Her eyes stared at the Lagoon of Venice and she decided she would take a gondola ride. A walk, a dinner on the terrace, expensive drinks, luxurious dresses. She even considered finishing her sightseeing tour in Piazza, she wanted very much to see the Clock Tower and Museum. But all her plans faded when she heard a rumble and hurried back into her suite, realizing that she was no longer alone.

 

She stared at the three men in their black suits. One of them drummed his fingers around the semiautomatic pistol with muffler. "Don’t make any scandal and we take you alive. If you scream, we take you dead wrapped in a rug. Our boss just wants to have a little talk to you."

 

She took a deep breath as she faced each one individually. One of them stepped forward, and she reached out delicately as she shook her head. "Please, stay calm. I will accompany you."

 

***

 

She came down the steps with complete tranquility, and a sweet smile on her face. None of them would dare say she was calculating an escape. Of the few certainties she possessed, one of them was that Male Baryshnikov would kill her as soon as possible. Or torture her first and then kill her. From any perspective, it was pretty bad. She took a deep breath and concentrated on the elegant decoration made in murano coated until finally they were outside the hotel.

 

They walked towards the Piazza. Two of them were behind her and the other beside her. She calculated the distance. There was no way to get to the Basilica. The Tower was out of range too. She remembered the Doge's Palace. The construction was done in gothic architecture on the edge of the Lagoon, where gondolas and boats were parked. She noticed a group of teenagers approaching and counted the seconds until the groups mingled. She had little time to move, but it was more than effective. She disengaged them and ran. She could feel them at her back, but she didn’t stop or even allowed herself the luxury of looking at them. She ran, stepping through the crowd. She pushed some people away, apologized, and kept racing against time.

 

As soon as she reached the wooden bridge, she jumped into the water and hoped they had not seen it. Placed among the boats, she heard them muttering in russian and running from side to side. When she got no further signs of them, she climbed into one of the gondolas.

 

"Hey, young lady. You have to pay first to use it."

 

“Párdon.”

 

She left the boat, but as soon as she got her feet on the bridge, she realized that one of them had seen her and was coming back. Regina tried to run, and then bumped into someone who was accidentally thrown against one of the boats. It took her a second to realize it was a cop. She had accidentally assaulted a policeman. He took his whistle and blew, and she started runing as that sound rang in her head. But the damage was done. She could not run much because two police officers caught her and tied her arms.

 

She saw the russians watching the scene. They exchanged glances and quickly disappeared into the crowd. She knew she was in trouble, but somehow, she was glad that she was still alive.

 

***

 

Robin was signing a report when Gold came in his office, smiling dumbly. It was almost comical as the cane was almost unnecessary when he was excited. Almost as if the legs were creating a life of their own. "I'm busy."

 

The old man smiled, ignoring the curt answer. "They got her."

 

"Who?" He asked, totally uninterested and without taking his eyes off his papers. Gold walked over to him and put his hand on the table, preventing him from reading. Robin looked up with perceptible irritation, staring at his superior.

 

“Carmen.”

 

The change in the countenance of the officer was glaring. His lips parted. "Who got Carmen?"

 

"The Italian police. It seems she got into a misunderstanding. They were only going to give her a summons, but as soon as they arrived at the police station, they found out who she is. They'll deport her to London tomorrow morning.” Gold smiled and walked to the bar. "Where do you keep the most expensive whiskeys? This news deserves a worthy celebration."

 

Robin was still trying to process the news. Carmen, in a misunderstanding? It doesn’t make any sense. "We should bring her today."

 

"There’s no reason to rush the Italians. They've done a great job.”

 

Robin got up and walked to his window, watching the typical Westminster moving. His heart was racing, even against his will; the possibility of finding Carmen again had chased him since she had made a fool out of him. He knew that one night was more than enough for the Raven to take her out of the police station, especially if he took into account the lack of aptitude and competence of the Italian battalions. She would escape through his fingers again.

 

He couldn’t let that happen. Taking the top of his suit and putting it on, he heard Gold’s voice. “Where are you going?"

 

“Settle a subject," he replied. "The bottles are on the third door of the second cabinet. Enjoy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always but not less important, thank you to my awesome beta. You're the best!  
> Keep commenting, that's important to me.   
> Xo


	10. Trust me

It was early in the morning, a little time after the midnight, and Robin pulled a chair closer to her cell. Against all protocols, there he was - talking to a potential unofficial suspicion. The Italian battalion policemen didn’t care about who she was - they wanted to get away from the problem as quickly as possible. An international criminal caught too much attention, and there were irregularities that an audit would bring about quickly. Well, no one wants that sort of thing. For them, extraditing her as quickly as possible was the best solution.

 

"When does my flight arrive?" She asked.

 

"In the morning, at eight or nine."

 

She stared at him, and sitting on the floor wearing jeans and a t-shirt, Carmen almost looked helpless. Almost unrecognizable as the woman who had deceived one of the directors of Interpol and stole such a valuable artifact. Her hair was still damp, and she was in sneakers and he smiled, thinking how ordinary she looked.

 

"Are you laughing at me?"

 

There was a smile on her lips. He leaned back in his chair, his legs slightly open in her direction. He wore a white social shirt and navy-blue Italian suit pants with elegant suspenders in the color of his suit. The cuff links were gold, with the initials RM marked with distinction. A true gentleman, with all his class and elegance. He rubbed the sole of the Italian shoes on the floor and faced the woman on the other side of the iron bars with some amusement in his eyes. "It's the first time you look ordinary, that's all."

 

She looked at the clothes she wore and nodded. "Yes, it's almost unbelievable that it's the last outfit I'm going to wear. So much Chanel, Gucci, Valentino and my latest outfit end up being these rags."

 

"You're going to look pretty in orange." He joked.

 

She smiled, but he realized she had not been sincere. She knew what awaited her. The game was over. She would go to prison, and there was nothing to be done to undo that. As much as he knew it was his duty, the fulfillment of his duty as an officer of the law, it was heavy on him.

 

"I'm much more common than you think." She countered.

 

“ I disagree.”

 

"You do not know much, do you? For someone who thinks my name is really Carmen."

 

He swallowed hard, staring at her. Checkmate. "You're right, I don’t know, maybe you can tell me."

 

"Why would I do that?" She asked, staring at the ceiling as she hugged her legs and leaned closer to the icy wall behind her.

 

"One last talk." He offered, and they exchanged a heavy look.

 

She had nowhere to go. “Fine.”

 

"What's your name?"

 

She laughed. "I figured you'd ask that."

 

"If you do not want to respond, I’ll understand."

 

"This may be my last real conversation, isn’t it? Let's not impose boundaries. My name is Regina."

 

His eyes flashed. Regina. "It's a much prettier name than Carmen."

 

"Thanks." She smiled genuinely. "But it's personal and I didn’t want to see it everywhere. On the cover of the newspapers. Carmen Sandiego is much more commercial."

 

"Yes." He pondered it. "What's the nature of your relationship with The Devil?"

 

The Devil. It was beyond awkward for her to see such a subname being related to her best friend. Regina raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking as Robin or as McLocksller?"

 

"It's still an informal conversation." He answered with both palms raised.

 

"Victoria is a sister to me. A sister that I've had a few things that sisters should not - never - have, but the bonds are deep. Is she in trouble?"

 

"No, no, she really retired after she married the Baron." Regina smiled. "But we can’t say the same about her girlfriend."

 

“Who?”

 

"The brunette who accompanied you to the pub in Covent Gardens. She works for Sidney Glass."

 

"I've also worked for Sidney Glass. There's nothing to it.”

 

"It turns out that Glass is working with Baryshnikov now. It was possibly as soon as Male discovered that you were in London."

 

"What a slut!"

 

"Possibly Victoria does not know either. She proves to be very protective of you - I doubt she would put you at risk."

 

His comment caught her attention. "How long have you been watching my steps, Robin?"

 

A silence settled between them. She stared at him, and Robin looked away for a while. A short time later he looked into her eyes again. "Years."

 

"Years." She repeated, trying to digest the taste of that word on her lips. "Because of the Raven?"

 

“Yes.”

 

She nodded and faced the other side of her dark and damp cell. "I see. Did the Raven do anything to you to devote so much time and energy to capturing him?"

 

"Because of him I lost an important person."

 

She bit her lip, wanted to ask, but her pride would not allow it. She stared at her own feet. "I'm not nobody to make you change your mind, Robin. But I've always had to be alone, I've always been self-sufficient, I've always been my own anchor. When the Raven came into my life, I no longer had to struggle on the surface - he took care of me. He gave me assistance, he was by my side whenever I needed to. I know what they say about him, but until this day, he has never left me helpless."

 

"You're about to be deported. What does that tell you about him?"

 

"Like I said, until today he had never left me helpless. It seems that things have changed."

 

"But you're still in love with him."

 

"I love him. It's already part of me."

 

"What would you feel if he never showed up again? Would you not feel betrayed? You stole that ruby for him. You should hand him over."

 

“It turns out I have a code. I have an honor, no matter how funny it sounds to you - a thief with honor. I fulfilled my part of the mission. I did as I was told. As an employer, it's up to him to fulfill his share of the business."

 

"I can’t understand."

 

"Then don’t try."

 

"If you could be in a place right now, where would it be?"

 

She laughed and her laughter echoed through the cold cell. "We got to the clichés questions. Somebody give me a shot."

 

"Shots hurt."

 

"You know that. I've never seen a special agent without a bulletproof vest. It was a huge irresponsibility."

 

"I was not on a mission. I was at a ball."

 

"You should never take that off. You're from Interpol, for God’s sake.”

 

He smiled. "What do you know about Interpol?"

 

"More than you'd like." She glanced at him. "Just as I know you installed that camera in my hotel but it was not attached to the police system."

 

He swallowed, wiping the sudden aridity in his throat. She knew he had seen it all.

 

"Don’t worry." A wicked smile crossed her fleshy lips. "Your secret is safe with me."

 

Feeling a little bit sheepish, he stretched out in the chair realigning his spine. He realized that he thought he was incredibly clever while, in fact, she was far ahead of him and didn’t brag about it - quite the opposite of what he would do in her place. He realized how much he had underestimated her. Regina possessed far more integrity than him. She was a consistent person. She had principles and was loyal to them.

 

For a minute he felt ashamed. He had crossed an ethical line and she had not bothered, knowing that she could destroy him with that. Even without knowing him, she had saved him. And what had he done? Put her behind the bars. Not that she blamed him. She had acquitted him of that action, aware that he was a man of the law and she had committed a crime. It was just a gear of the criminal system that turned in its clockwise direction, police catch thief, thief goes to jail.

 

Suddenly, he realized he had a choice. However inconsistent it seemed to him. Robin got up.

 

"I need to go." She stared at him blankly. Robin approached the bar and stared at her. "I hope to meet you again before the flight. In case I can’t make it, I wish you good luck. You deserve to be happy, Regina. I'm sorry for putting you in this situation."

 

"You did not put me here, Robin. You did your job, I did mine. It’s simple.”

 

He shook his head, nodding and walked away, not looking back.

 

***

 

She did not know how long it had been since Robin had left her and she had lain down on the thin strip of foam. All she could hear was the shrill alarm ringing above her head. Like a deafening scream, the ringing came and went, followed by red lights that came from everywhere. She approached the bars and then someone came running.

 

"Robin, what are you doing here?"

 

He took a bundle of keys from his pocket and opened the cell in a hurry. "You need to trust me." He whispered and she suspected she had only a few seconds to decide. She nodded and he caught her by the wrist.

 

Regina felt a piece of cloth being placed over her head, a kind of sack, and that would terrify her - but Robin asked her to trust him and she would accept to trust. Or even try to do it. For the next two minutes, Regina felt herself guided through her own darkness by what looked like a narrow corridor. Above her, the siren kept ringing and screams in Italian were getting farther and farther away. She felt it when the fresh air hit her body - they were in open space, but she did not take the bag away, assuming Robin was in charge at that moment.

 

She heard some voices and he said something in polish, or what she believed to be polish. A car door opened and Robin put his hand on her head so she would not knock it and went right in. Regina was agonized, but she knew that at that moment her self-control was essential.

 

She took a deep breath as she heard Robin giving orders in that language that was completely unknown to her. Seconds later, he placed his hand over hers. It was a simple and innocent gesture. Something that might mean nothing. But it meant. Regina intertwined her fingers in his fingers, because at that moment he was the only certainty she had. During the whole trip she did not know if it had been long or short because her heart was pounding, she felt safe. She felt supported. She felt for the first time in years that someone was really protecting her. No, she was not being ungrateful. Obviously the Raven protected her. But it was not physical. It was not really real. There was no human warmth.

 

The car stopped and Robin came down and pulled her slowly. She could hear the sound of turbines. They walked a few steps and Robin delicately removed the bag from her head. Regina opened her eyes and his face was the first thing she saw. A smile of relief settled on her face as she looked around. They were in a kind of private airport, surrounded by men in dark gray jeans uniforms. Regina glanced over his shoulder and stared at the black SVU with its dark windows.

 

Robin held out his hand for her and she identified her papers and her jacket. “This plane is going to leave for France in fifteen minutes. From there, I believe you can go wherever you want without my tracking. The pilot's name is Leslie and you can order whatever you need to her. She is a friend of mine."

 

Their eyes met. He could tell how much doubt there was behind her gaze. She was confused and afraid and what could he say? So was he. She held his hand tightly. "Robin, why are you doing this?"

 

"I don’t know how to answer you, Regina." He removed her hand from his and she nodded, resuming her serious posture.

 

"You risked your job. What are you going to tell them?"

 

"That you escaped. After all, you are Carmen Sandiego. They will believe. You're a legend, it will not be difficult."

 

She smiled. "I'm not going to forget that, McLocksller."

 

He waved and walked away. He blinked at her, looking like a boy in a typical youthful grimace and smiled. "Bye, Carmen."

 

“See you around.”

 

"I hope I don’t see you again for a long time."

 

She smiled and put the jacket over her shoulder, walking toward the plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta. She rocks it.


	11. Adele

It was raining a lot. Robin looked through the blinds of his apartment and took a deep breath, wondering where she might be. He shook his head, trying to push his thoughts away. He could no longer think of Carmen. He had already made unimaginable concessions for her.

 

He went to his desk, wearing only a sweatpants. He was without a t-shirt, barefoot and with a long beer in his hands. He did not even remember the last time he had allowed himself a break, but it was strictly accurate. No one had inquired about Carmen's escape. It was obvious that the Raven had moved and rescued her from an Italian battalion with no priority security. Half a dozen reports ended that operation, and no sub-inspector bothered to evaluate what had been done. As always.

 

Robin scanned the papers that needed filling out, but the rain outside seemed to increase, and that deconcentrated him. He walked over to the stereo in the corner of the room, trying to remember the last time he had heard any melody other than the sound of police wiretaps and interrogations. She was right. It was an empty and unhappy life.

 

He rummaged some inserts and removed one from Adele. He could not remember if he had bought or gotten as a gift, but it was irreverent. He set it to play, selected the random choice, and closed his eyes when the british's voice filled the room in a gentle way. He sipped his beer, listening to the rain outside, and humming along with the artist.

 

The doorbell rang and Robin raised an eyebrow. He was not expecting anyone. Nor had the doorman telephoned him, which was rather strange. He set the beer on the coffee table and wielded his Glock, moving away from the firing line of the door. He came by the side and carefully turned the key in the lock. No sinal. He disengaged one of the latches but kept the chain, making sure it had opened a small gap.

 

"Regina?" He asked incredulously when he saw her. Two seconds later he got rid of the other locks and opened the door, staring at the soaked woman on the other side of the hall. Regina was wearing the same outfit he had left her at the airport, except that she was completely drenched, her hair stuck to her neck and face, her lips purplish with cold. For a millisecond, he felt panic. Then despair and finally, a whirlwind of doubts.

 

She was shaking, her lips crackled with cold, and she looked at the gun in his hand. Her eyes slid across the defined abdomen, the hip lines rising transversely to the elastic of his sweatpants. He caught her gaze on him and returned it, and for some time they stood there, uncertain of what they were doing. "What are you doing here?" He asked, and she bit her lower lip, as though thinking about what to answer.

 

But the answer never came. Regina took a step forward and threw herself at him, her soft mouth slipping into his and her fingers traveled to his hair and neck. Robin was static, his arms inert as his brain tried to accept what was happening, the softness of those lips and the warmth that had emanated from them. Regina sighed as she needed air and moved a few inches away, staring deep into his blue eyes. She did not know what she was doing there. He did not either. It took seconds for Robin to dig his fingers through her hair, bringing her mouth to his, his tongue touching hers, sucking, playing with pressure and loosening inside her mouth.

 

He pushed her against the wall and pressed one of his legs between hers; Regina cradled his hip with one of her legs as they continued that sensual dance; a prelude to what they both knew to be incessant. She had her fingernails at the base of his hip, dictating a rhythm to the movement his pelvis did as it clicked into hers and Robin bit  the base of her neck as his fingers touched her beneath the thin regatta and she moaned. Carefully he removed the wet vest and threw it on the floor, holding her again by the jaw and restarting another session of intense and delicious kisses. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry; like a child tasting a long-sought candy long and long ago, he understood how imperial it was to devote himself with complete devotion, she was there in his arms and that might be his only chance.

 

She kept pressing him between her leg and her pelvis, fingernails holding his hip in a delightful movement as she kissed him, and she was kissed, and with every caress he made in her mouth with his tongue she moaned loudly, her mind occupied in imagining him using that tongue in other pleasurable places. This was different from what she was accustomed to; horny fucks with men she didn’t know had its pinch of sensuality but she wanted that man and he wanted her, and only this reciprocity was enough to ignite every second they passed in the heat of the other.

 

Robin caught her by the neck and she closed her eyes, his mouth slid to her ear where he slid his tongue and nibbled; he blew lightly and licked it again, her legs giving up, and she felt his manly and strong hands around her buttocks, positioning her against the wall; she crossed her legs at the height of his hip and let her nails assess the firm musculature of his back, scratching as he continued to bite and slid his tongue over her ear sensuously.

 

His hands looked huge against her waist, squeezing her, pushing against the wall as her hips slammed sensuously into hers. Their mouths had found a way back to each other, lips were bitten, tongues were sucked, her teeth sliding through the wisp of beard that remained on the agent's face. It was vicious, the taste and the hunger, the urgent need to bite and kiss, to lick and kiss again. Regina stuffed her nails into his flesh when she felt his mouth on her jugular, something about the way he made circles on his skin and marked it with his teeth, something about the way how he intensified the hip movement, but she felt a sublime need to beg for more.

 

She released his hip, placing her feet carefully on the floor. Robin pulled away, standing in front of her and pinning her between the wall and he did not lean against her body. He watched her adoringly as she pulled her jeans down her legs with some difficulty, the heavy fabric was even more fair when wet and scraped her delicate skin during the process to be discarded. Her sneakers had been lost somewhere but Regina was not worried. She stared at him and he bit her lower lip before attacking her again, his hands sliding down her waist, his fingers making a sexy snap as he felt her moan into his mouth, in a way that made the volume in his underwear double in size.

 

Her fingernails played with the elastic of the sweatpants, and he bit her throat a little harder when he felt she had slid her hands inside his boxer, digging her nails into the skin of his ass. "Regina." He moaned, and she smiled against his mouth so he felt it when her fleshy lips curved. He spread his hands against her buttocks and squeezed, his fingers gripping the flesh and he pulled her into his lap. He walked over to the counter and sat her there, wedged himself between her shapely thighs. She pulled him to her, crossing her legs at the height of his hip and her mouth reached his neck; Robin gripped the counter so hard that his knuckles went white, her tongue circled his skin and every now and then he felt the sensual touch of her teeth teasing and tickling the skin with malice.

 

Words might be necessary, but none of them would know what to say. Like an uncontrolled fire, they burned for each other, and the more it burned, the more delicious it was. He wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, but maybe she already knew - probably through the grunts emanating from him whenever she bit the skin of his chest. Robin slid his thumb along the line of her spine and watched attentively as she closed her eyes and smiled; he slid the black bra gently through the delicate body, his fingers caressing her skin as he let the piece fall gently on the floor.

 

She tightened the pressure of her legs around him as she felt Robin's hands on her breasts; he quickly massaged them with heavy hands, squeezing, sliding over the skin, the thumb circling the aureole before pressing the nipples using the thumb and forefinger. Her soft moans were a powerful and intoxicating aphrodisiac - the more he listened, the more he wanted her to moan. He closed his hand around her left breast and brought it to his mouth; in the second that his lips closed around the sensitive area, she clenched her legs tightly and moaned deeply - _Mon Dieu!_ \- making him smile. He sucked her hard and played with the nipple inside his mouth, his tongue encircled and smeared, his teeth clenched over the little point of pleasure before sucking it back. She was so vulnerable - her head dropped back, over her shoulders, her neck gently exposed, her arms resting on the counter trying to find some point of support in the cloud of libertine pleasure that embraced her at that moment. He was very skillful with his tongue, and it made her hopelessly restless. He bit the skin of her breasts with devotion, licked the line between her breasts and then nipped her nipples to the limit of her pleasure.

 

She pulled him by the hair to her mouth and kissed him, her mouth nestling into his with familiarity as she sucked his tongue between her fleshy lips; Robin lowered his hands to her hips and squeezed her against him as he began slow movements, brushing his erection against her thin panties. The kiss turned into bites, he held her by the hair as she desperately tugged at his blond hair. He realized how much she liked it everytime his teeth sank into her flesh, something kinky about being dominated by him and he could not feel less privileged. "I shouldn’t be here, McLocksller." She moaned as he sucked at her pulse point. His fingers came up and down her back before he held her by the back of her neck and aligned their gazes, so she was only inches from him.

 

"It is the last place on earth where they will seek you.” He cupped her lower lip between his for a moment and brushed her nose with his lips. He kissed her willingly and felt her relax in his arms. He slid his hand into her damp hair and pressed his mouth to her ear, causing her to shiver. "I know what you're thinking. It’s about who we are, about being on the opposite sides of the same coin, about how wrong it is. Don't do it. I want you and I don’t want to stop. If you want to rate this moment as a mistake, go ahead - but of all the mistakes I've ever made, it has never seemed so right."

 

He bit into her earlobe and she moaned, squeezing him against her and giving him the approval he needed. Robin laid her down on the counter and kissed her abdomen, holding a few pieces of skin with his teeth as he stroked her thighs. He carefully spread her legs and placed one of her feets on his shoulder, then bent down and stroked her only with the tongue, over the thin fabric of leaked lace, snatching it over the cloth. She arched her spine on the counter as he played with his tongue, teasing her with the tip around her clit. “Robin…” She moaned, her nails clawing at the counter; he smiled, stuffed his thumbs into the seam of her panties and slid the piece out of her soft legs.

 

He quickly opened her legs, keeping them open without any resistance, and with only a movement he leaned forward and slid his tongue around the entrance of her sex. He felt her moan reverberate through his skin and continued, sliding slowly and lazily into each fold, his lips brushing against her sensitivity; his teeth nibbling at the hypersensitized skin as his tongue accompanied the movement. He smiled as he felt her begin to move her hip almost imperceptibly, so he pinched his fingers on her pelvis and held her under his command; his tongue was imperative, up and down, he forced the penetration and felt her grunting with pleasure. Her lips ranged from red to burgundy, so much the force that she bit them trying to drown out the deep moans stored deep in her throat.

 

He used his whole mouth, slashing at her and kissing her, his tongue taking possession, in circles and without a properly direction, pressing and releasing the sensitive skin around her entrance. Robin tightened his fingers on her hip bones and began to penetrate her with the tip of his tongue, mimicking the movements he desperately wanted to accomplish with his own cock. _Carajo_ \- she had changed the language of the moans and he smiled, continuing to suck that valley with all the devotion that had already gathered in his system. She wrapped her fingers around his hair and pulled it hard as she now pushed herself harder against his lips and he realized she was not going to hold it any longer. He intensified the movements of his tongue, noting that her muscles tensed and the spine formed a beautiful bow - _dejame vir, Robin_ \- and only stopped when he felt her body collapsing in micro spasms of pleasure, his head throbbing from the force in which she pulled his hair.

 

Her thorax still moved with a fast pace, the process of relaxation and absorption of orgasm occurring in her entrails when she sighed as she felt his tongue touching her with familiarly. She breathe out heavily; her body was already working so as to accompany this new wave of pleasure, an almost imperceptible tingling. He bit the inside of her thigh and his fingers slid around, massaging the skin between her prepuce, rubbing her with his thumb, traversing each fold in the company of his tongue. He felt her fingers caressing her hair and continued, every now and then, teasing her entrance with the tips of his fingers. He played with her clitoris using his thumb, pressing and releasing at small intervals; Regina squirmed on the counter, anxious. “McLocksller.” She demanded in a commanding voice.

 

He gently accepted the non-verbal request and slid two fingers inside her. A silent oh escaped her lips and he continued, moving them in a calm and continuous pace. She was so turned on, so wet to be specific, in such a way that his fingers slipped into her easily. "You are so wonderful.” He said, his voice laden with lust and desire, controlled by the swirl of pleasures that surrounded them. He felt the movement she did with her hips and withdrew his fingers just to change hands; then he pushed it back into her with three fingers, palm up. He could see her curling up against his hand and never in his life he had seen something so splendid. She bit her lips, muffled groans escaped through her perfect teeth - and he knew she couldn’t stand much longer. He increased the strength and speed of his fingers and quickly felt the tension forming inside her, the wave of pleasure forming at the edge of the carnal cliff; her legs shuddered and she groaned louder and louder - _madre de dío, don’t fucking stop_ \- and he finally stopped, frustrating her. She opened her eyes and tried to close her legs, a solution to the orgasm burning her private parts and begging to be released.

 

Robin stopped her, holding her shamelessly open. He watched her for a few seconds, so beautiful and vulnerable under the counter, her hair scattered and her breathless beautiful body. He leaned back and licked her entrance; without warning, slid his tongue down her anal perineum and forced the penetration there. The unexpected act in such a sensitive area created an ignition and her whole body exploded in a jolt of pleasure, making her bang her head on the counter and scream his name.

 

***

 

Robin took her in his lap and carried her to the bed. He laid her down carefully, placing her on the soft sheet. Regina was breathing heavily, and he lay down beside her, covering her. She stared at him in silence and he returned the look, the silence expanding between them for minutes. Finally, she smiled. "I’m sorry.”

 

"There's nothing to be sorry, Regina."

 

She stared at him, then reached out, sliding the back of her fingers over his face in a intimate and sweet gesture. "For using you."

 

"You did your job."

 

"I'm not here because of my work, if that's what you're thinking." She bit her lip, not knowing how much it hypnotized him. "I ... I could not stop thinking about what happened in Italy. You could go to jail for helping me and you know it. Why did you do that?"

 

"I told you that I didn’t know," he replied with a smile, and she found it incredibly seductive to see him lying there with his face resting on his hand. "Are you hungry?" She stared at him and he raised his eyebrows, waiting for the answer.

 

"A little."

 

"Come on, I'll make some pizza. We can put your clothes in the centrifuge while we enjoy something."

 

She lifted the sheet, making sure she was naked and he smiled. "I don’t have women's clothes here, but I’ll go ahead and you pick something in my closet. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

 

Regina watched him leave and wondered what he was doing. She could not deny that she was maddened by what had happened between them and didn’t regret anything, not even one little second of it. He had done so much for her, much more than anyone else, and if there is someone that had trusted her completely, that was him. She got up and went through the closet door, watching the perfectly neat, hanging clothes. She chose a white social shirt and wrapped her hair in a bun, heading for the kitchen.

 

"That shirt got a lot better on you than on me," he noted, and she blushed, feeling youthful in doing so. Regina sat down on the counter and he turned to the small oven, putting the pizza in the metal drawer and shoving it inside. "You're back at work?"

 

She stared at him for a while, her face impassive. "I came back to talk to you. I couldn’t know it would end up happening..." She smiled at him with barely perceptible malice. "Something else."

 

"I see." He nodded. He walked to the hall and took her clothes off the floor, lifting her bra gently and placing it over her shoulder with a smile that didn’t go unnoticed by her. "I'll put the clothes on the machine."

 

Robin walked over to the service area after the kitchen, stretching the laundry inside the equipment. Seconds later she appeared, and leaned against the doorjamb watching him handle the machinery. "You shouldn’t have come back, everyone is after you. Even Baryshnikov."

 

"I can’t leave. You're washing my clothes, "she replied with a huge smile. Robin finished packing the clothes inside the centrifuge and turned to her. "By the way, I think you should wash this shirt too." She unbuttoned each button slowly, under his watchful eye. Robin swallowed dry when she was finished and he could see the full nakedness beneath the cloth; she removed the piece and threw it into his hands, which took the piece in the air.

 

"Done. I think I'm leaving like this," she teased. "What do you think?"

 

"I don’t think you're going anywhere," he said, throwing the piece on the ground and hurrying up to her. He pressed her against the doorjamb, pushing his body against hers as he kissed her hard, his mouth locked with hers in a libidinal kiss. She encircled his neck, fingers playing in his blond hair as he raised her legs and crossed them around his waist, suspending her body from the ground. When Robin bit her neck and she felt his hands running down her lower thighs, she cupped his face. "The pizza..." She smiled, reminding him that he could not be distracted for so long.

 

"We'll have to be quick then," he replied, and she let go of his waist, but Robin lifted only one of her legs and kissed her again. Regina moaned against his mouth when she felt two fingers sliding inside her; she dug her nails into his shoulder and leaned her head against him.

 

"Robin... Damn it," she whispered, feeling him move his fingers; a hot, growing force within her, filling her, instigating her. He seemed to know every termination of her body, for there was something in the curvature reached by the thick fingers that should be aligned to the maximum extent of her pleasure - each stroke was so pleasurable that it seemed like a high-pressure impact on her nervous system. It was not long before she began to roll against his fingers and feel him use even more speed, she bit his shoulder and he held her leg up more tightly until he felt her bang her head against the doorframe behind her and her legs soften in the same rhythm as the spasms caused by the climax of pleasure. "You're very good at it," she whispered, her voice crackled with uncontrolled breathing. The oven doorbell rang seconds later and she leaned against it to walk to the kitchen.

 

***

 

It was late at night when they decided to sit on the couch and watch something. But they could not. All they could do was look at each other, surrounded by their curiosities, their doubts, the fascination of that moment. Robin was holding his long beer and watching the woman with a glass of wine in front of him.

 

"What will happen if Raven finds out what happened between us? Do not you worry about him trying some reprisal?”

 

She glanced up, looking a little tense but her expression soon softened. She drank some more wine before answering. "At the moment his opinion doesn’t matter to me. Not when I almost lost everything. I should not be here. I should not have gotten involved, Robin." She looked at the fireplace where some logs burned. "But I'm here because I want to. And I want you. I've wanted you since that ball."

 

They exchanged a deep-seated look and he smiled. "I've wanted you since I met you as Carmen." He confessed, and she stood up, walking to the couch where he was and sitting on his lap; her fingernails stroked his masculine face with care.

 

"I said I didn’t know why I let you escape, but I lied." She pulled his face and made him look into her eyes. Robin caught her by the back of her neck. "I ..." She smiled. "I…"

 

Regina put a finger over his lips, silencing him. "I know." She kissed his lips fondly. "Take me to your bed. I want to feel you inside me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beyond grateful for my awesome beta, Vanes. 
> 
> Pls, let me know what y'all think.
> 
> Find me on twitter! @yugensouls


	12. Gold

Lying on her stomach, she looked at him. Robin was sitting, his back propped on the headboard, taking a deep breath. She bit her lip, looking at the large and strong shoulders, the firm musculature of his abdomen. She tried to steady her breathing; she had lost count of how many orgasms she'd had since they'd gone to the bedroom. She had no idea what time it was, and she could not care less. She felt his fingers running down her spine, tracing the path from her lower back until he reached the coccyx bone where she innocently thought he would stop; his fingers continued, sliding between her buttocks, down her thighs and disappearing soon after.

 

"I have to go to work in two hours," he commented, not at all resigned. He didn’t want to leave her, and she didn’t wanted to let him go. They had spent an entire night trying to indulge their ardent desire for each other, and it had been inefficient. Each orgasm embraced her like a giant wave breaking against a rock, and within seconds her body was already beginning to stir at his touch. Again. It was dawning, she imagined.

 

She turned to him. Robin watched her there, naked, lying face down on his side and bit his lip. She was phenomenal, she was the ruin of any man. "If we only have two hours, you should do something instead of staring."

 

Robin smiled. She tried to turn around but he held her still, lying on top of  her. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled it back, she moaned with a devilish smile on her lips that only made him even harder. "As I know you like to take orders, I have one for you." He ran his tongue over her ear, listening to her murmur of pleasure. He placed his swollen cock between her buttocks and began rubbing himself there, just teasing her. He bit her lip, controlling himself not to slide into her. Regina was a woman to be seduced, dominated, pleased. She pushed her hips up, trying to increase the contact, and Robin caught his cock by the base, brushing her entrance with the glans. "Is that what you want, Regina?" He continued to tease, inserting only the tip inside her entrance, and pulling away quickly. "You don’t get tired, do you? From the feeling of having me all inside you. Tearing your inner walls. I can still hear you moaning, asking for more and more."

 

She gripped the pillow with her fingernails, trying to appease the heat burning in her veins that was asking to be released. "Robin." He slide in slowly, and she gasped. She felt his fingers on her hipbone, pulling her up and pushing her down, dictating a rhythm and a movement to be followed.

 

He was suspended over her, his forearms firmly resting on the mattress and she would have to move if she wanted more. Not that she was not going to do it - it took seconds for her to start pushing against him, against the thick fullness that filled her completely. There was something in the movement she was making, something in the gravitational force against which she was going that made the act even more intense; her flesh swallowing him, sheltering him completely with an ease beyond overwhelming. Robin was concentrated, all his effort focused on staying still for her to continue, though his will was to push himself further into her, so deep that their flesh would merge. He realized as her movements slowed; Regina was on the edge of exhaustion, just like him. He pushed her against the mattress and held her still as he took control, steadily pushing himself against her, deep and firm thrusts that made her moan louder than before. Her curved hips provided a tempting arch that reached points inside her that disarmed her, so he could felt her inner walls closing around his cock with each thrust. "Mon dieu!" She cried, punching the pillow and he smiled, slowing the rhythm.

 

Regina moaned tearfully as he slipped out of her, but Robin just sat in the center of the bed and pulled her gently to him. She crawled up to him, feeling his hungry eyes all over her body. She loved how he made her feel. Not that she had any problem of self-esteem, after all she was Carmen Sandiego and this single reason already made her feel like the sexiest woman in the world. But Robin... One glance was enough, and the center of her legs was already lubricated to the point that she had to cross her legs. And it was no different. She watched him totally naked, seated in front of her and realized she did not want this to be just a one time thing. She sat on his lap; his determined hand gripped the back of her neck and pulled her to his mouth. There was nothing more delightful to him than the taste of her mouth, the way his soft lips fitted into hers, and his soft tongue flowed inside her own mouth. Regina was deliciously sensational. He moaned as he felt her roll in his lap; she had embedded her sensitive flesh into the length of his cock, sliding over him slowly and torturously. "Devil." He moaned, placing his hand on her hips while his mouth slid to her delicate neck. Regina gave in, her head thrown back and her neck yielding to intense kisses and firm bites; she kept her hands on his broad shoulders just to remain focused on her pelvic movement. Robin entwined his fingers in her hair and pulled her to him, kissing his mouth with hunger and urgency; she moaned on his lips, her eyes closed in an in vain act whose purpose was to diminish the delicious fever she felt from his touch. He continued the kiss down his jaw, interspersed with bites, and went down his neck; Regina began to move even faster against him, taking advantage of the friction of her clit on the rigid organ. Robin nibbled on her nipple and she whimpered, making him smile; she quickly lowered one hand between her legs and lined up their genders, sliding his into hers gently. She smiled while watching every feature of him, the sexy way he'd bit his lip as he slid into her; when he opened his eyes she got marveled at the dark tone in his eyes, the pupils dilated by the overflowing pleasure.

 

Regina crossed her legs around his waist and kissed him, her arms wrapped around his neck, imprisoning him in that sensual kiss; he let his hands slide across the length of her back, caressing her with the tips of his fingers delicately. Slowly she slipped out of his mouth and down toward his ear, biting his earlobes as she stroked the back of his neck with her fingernails. "I've never felt so horny about anyone.” She confessed in a loaded whisper and he grunted, but she did not let him move and pulled his hair down, forcing him to lift his head and unprotected his neck. Her mouth slid down his neck, brushing, teasing, feeling his heartbeat accelerating until she finally closed her lips in a wet kiss over his jugular. "Oh boy," he whispered and she continued, her tongue sliding up and down around the bite marks she'd left along the way. Robin tightened his fingers around her waist and she moaned with the pressure of his fingers there. She dropped the back of his neck and put both hands on his shoulders; then she leaned her head against his temple and began to move slowly. Her legs left his hip and she straightened, resting her knees on his sides for support. Her body rose and fell, slowly, all its endings being stirred by him, by the length and thickness of his limb; Robin just rested his hands on her waist - but let her dictate the rhythm that suited her best. She caught his mouth in hers, his tongue around hers as he sucked on her and made her moan; one hand dropped from her waist and he grabbed one of her breasts, pressing and massaging, the nipple between his fingers being mercilessly tight and making her whimper. Regina began to move more steadily, up and down, moaning loudly; she felt her lungs dilate for air, her breath growing hotter and the pressure in her belly increasing with each thrust.

 

She moaned as Robin moved against her, increasing the friction of their bodies - the room was filled with the sound of their groans, grunts, and the clash between their sexes. Her breasts swayed in the air because of the intensity of her movements, each time she felt her whole body shudder, yielding, stiffening - Robin had already returned both hands to her waist and now he was ungentlemanly invading her, strong and intense. "Robin, I can’t take it anymore..." She moaned and he smiled. "Don’t take it. Let it come." He answered and kept stocking, feeling her moan even louder until she stopped moving and stuffed her nails into him; her whole body convulsed all at once and a scream crossed her throat as Robin penetrated her tightly and she held him so tightly he thought she might break. She stopped breathing for seconds. "Do not move, McLocksller. Do. Not. Move."

 

Robin smiled, and found the invitation tempting. He lowered one hand to her clit and slid his thumb across the sensitive spot, and her body gave way. Regina hugged him tightly and laid her head on his neck when he felt a hot liquid squirting from her, and Robin, realizing what that meant, could not contain his excitement, being carried to the extreme and reaching his orgasm respectively.

 

Robin held her in his lap. He slid a hand into her hair, caressing them affectionately. Regina was still lying on his body, her head tucked into his neck. "Are you alright?"

 

She murmured something disconnected and he laughed. He felt her pull away, she jerked away from his embrace and stood face to face with him, her hair messy, her mouth red and her lower lip marked by her own bite. She stared at him as if she could read his eyes, as if his soul were open to her. Regina stroked his face and kissed him lightly. "I've never been so good." A smile accompanied her.

 

Robin smiled too. "You happen to ..." He raised his eyebrows, and she caught exactly what he was trying to ask. She smiled. Men and their egos.

 

"I guess so." She slid her thumb over his lips. "It's the first time it happens."

 

Robin kissed her passionately, never getting tired of the pressure of his mouth against hers. It was warm and delicate. When they parted, she looked out the window. "The sun is already rising. Someone needs to get dressed for work. "Carefully, she rushed off of him, laying down on the bed after the sensation of him coming out of her. Robin lay down too.

 

"What about you?" He asked, watching her. She looked at him with a mischievous smile and an arched eyebrow, before being taken in by sleep. She yawned.

 

"My dear, I’m going to sleep as a baby. You've made me exhausted."

 

He smiled and got up, walking toward the bathroom.

 

***

 

Regina was asleep when he got out of the shower and put on his dark blue suit. He stared at her on the bed, face down, the sheet only covering her hip. He did not want to admit it but he knew she could wake up and just walk away. There was nothing to keep her there, and in a way, it was better - but the truth was not at all what he longed for. He straightened his hair and looked in the mirror; there was a mark of her lips on his neck, but nothing too terrible. And nobody would believe that that mark was made by Carmen Sandiego.

 

Robin walked to the desk and removed a notebook. He sat down in a chair and watched her sleep; she seemed in full peace. He pressed the pen button and began to write.

 

_Regina,_

_I don’t know if you'll be here when I get back. I hope you are. If you are not, I wish you good luck and be careful - your face has been searched everywhere. There are no arguments that will make you stay if you don’t want to._

_I left the coffee ready for you. I hope you enjoy._

_RM._

 

He walked to the mirror and fastened the little note there. He looked at her for the last time and went out the door, wanting to find her when he returned home.

 

***

 

Robin sat, talking to the boys responsible for tracking devices when Gold's secretary appeared.

 

"Agent McLocksller."

 

Robin got up and smiled. He realized that she smiled seductively but could not be less interested - she was pretty, red-haired, blue-eyed, legs turned, but if only he had eyes for another woman than the one sleeping in his bed at that moment. "Yes, Belle?”

 

"Gold asked if you will accompany him at the press conference."

 

Robin couldn’t remember any press conference, but he nodded, smiling. "I'll be there. Five minutes."

 

She shook her head. She was coming out of the room, her pleated skirt dancing in the wind and distracting the boys when the redhead stopped and came back. "Did you forget something?" Robin asked, standing up again.

 

"You should smile like that every day, Robin. Made you look even better than you are."

 

She backed away, disappearing through the door to the hallway and leaving an embarrassed man behind.

 

***

 

The flash of professional cameras bothered him. Sitting on Gold's left, he watched the movement. Journalists and more journalists, all that crazyness about a new piece of information to be printed on the cover of their newspapers. One of the journalists asked about the escape of Carmen Sandiego from the Italian police battalion and Gold abused intonation to say that the Raven had full responsibility for the incident. Robin smoothed his thin tie and lifted his head.

 

"For reasons of hierarchy and bureaucratic handling, Officer McLocksller will be removed from the operation. The officer on my right will be the new leader. Ladies and gentlemen, with you the newest member of Operation Raven, Killian Jones."

 

Robin swallowed hard and struggled to remain calm. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Killian's huge smile. Anger burned under his skin but he was face to face with dozens of cameras. His reaction needed to be as polite as possible. He kept a smile on his face as he listened to the presentation of the officer who was his subordinate until a few minutes ago. How could Gold do that to him? He knew that politics is political and that in terms of career in the police sphere, betrayals were more than ordinary. They were expected.

 

Hatred tangled in his mind. After all these years faithfully serving Interpol. After all the risks and sacrifices, he had been set aside in the blink of an eye. Replaced by a mediocre professional who did not possess half his coefficient, his talent, his intelligence.

 

The next few minutes seemed like hours. Robin could not breathe. His only desire was to reach Jones and punch his face until it was unrecognizable. He caught the eye of one of the journalists and winked at her, smiling.

 

***

 

When Gold closed the press conference, Robin was the first to withdraw. He didn’t want to go after his boss, he could do nothing. Gold was far more influential and powerful, and some connections would be enough for Robin to never get a job again. He walked over to Killian's office. He passed the small bar and picked up a bottle of rum, condemning him for the bad taste with drinks. Then sat down in his chair and filled the glass with the strong liquid. His eyes traveled to the picture frame with the photo of Jones and Rose. Rose Green was much more than Jones deserved.

 

He drank the rum for a while, and it was not long before the sound of the door being opened denounced the arrival of its owner. Killian smiled, malice filling his lips when he caught sight of him. "Have you come to congratulate me, McLocksller?"

 

Robin stood up, drinking all the rum in one gulp. Killian passed him, taking the glass from his hands and removing the bottle from the table, both of them returning to the bar. "I admire you like this rum. It came from Cancun."

 

"As shit as the owner," grunted the blonde, staring at the dark-haired man with half-closed eyes full of hatred.

 

"What do you want, Robin? Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? After such public humiliation, I... "

 

"Shut up." Robin's voice sounded thick and heavy. He took a few more steps, approaching Killian. "What the fuck was that? What did you do for Gold to get you over me like that?"

 

Killian smiled. "Actually, you did it."

 

Robin walked over to him, taking him by the collar of his suit. "You have two seconds to start talking, you little shit. Before I make you vomit your inner organs here on that carpet." Killian saw the little knife in the hands of the blonde and swallowed.

 

"Robin, mate... Let's take it easy. You don’t need to do that, man."

 

Robin pushed him away. Killian sighed. "Gold had sold the girl." Robin raised his eyebrows uncomprehending. "Carmen. Gold sold Carmen to Male Baryshnikov."

 

The blond's stomach began to writhe. Killian continued to speak. "They were going to disguise themselves as policemen and remove her from the Italian battalion in the morning. But you interfered."

 

Robin's lips parted but he did not say a word. Killian smiled. "Yes. Gold knows it was you. But he chose not to give you up. Baryshnikov had already paid for Carmen and he will not return the money. You got him in this mess and he decided to get you out of the move. So I went in."

 

Robin put his palm over his lips like the one covering his mouth. He needed to think. His stomach ached, and his head twisted, causing nausea.

 

"Of course I accepted the promotion, but the truth is that the one in charge is Gold. I'm just a puppet. And if I were you, Robin, I would be very careful. Gold will come after you, sooner or later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers to my beta Vanes; I love this girl so much


	13. Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my adorable beta for an awesome job

When Robin got out of the elevator, he took a few steps in the corridor covered by dark red carpet and stopped shortly thereafter. Silently, he closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, analyzing the sounds. He heard nothing but the sound of the ventilation systems. It was foreseeable that she had left and he could not understand why he felt disappointed. She was Carmen Sandiego. Run away was her main tool of work.

 

He walked to his apartment, turning the key in the lock. As soon as he opened the door, the smell enmeshed him. She had not disappeared. A involuntary smile came to his lips, and he took off his suit, placing it on the mobile. He walked to the kitchen, watching her. She was wearing a new outfit - he was convict that he didn’t have a black dress like that in any corner of his wardrobe. The dress was short, so he had a privileged view of the legs; the white apron was tied around her waist, the lace in the middle of her back. She had tied her hair in a bun. When she turned to get some pot, her gaze crossed with his and she seemed surprised - which was completely unexpected. That was his apartment, was not it? "Hi."

 

"I thought you were gone.”

 

"If you want me to go, I will." She seemed uncertain about him being serious or joking; Robin approached the refrigerator, opening it and grabbing a beer. "Of course not. I was just surprised." He leaned back against the counter and pulled one of the stools. She stared at him for some time, thinking on something and turned around, taking the pot of Italian seasoning with her.

 

"You left the apartment." Robin noted, with no conviction in his voice.

 

"It was the dress that denounced me?" She replied, without turning to look at him. Robin allowed his gaze to trace her hip and legs for a second then fixed his look into the kitchen cupboard.

 

"You can’t walk the streets of London. You’re a fugitive from Interpol. If any camera took your face..."

 

"I did not leave the building." She closed the pots and turned to him, walking to the counter. She leaned over the furniture, standing at the height of his face, so that she could look at him closely and attentively. They were two feet apart, eyes locked in each other's eyes. "I met your neighbors, which you should do. Your doorman thought you were gay and poor guy, he was even hoping to be noticed. But I said I'm your girlfriend and he said that finally you brought someone to this apartment." She laughed delightedly and he gave no reaction. "I did the shopping on the internet and put the address of the apartment upstairs. Did you know its owner never showed up?"

 

"No," he replied, looking at her without losing his bright eyes and a mocking smile. Regina played with the spoon, licking her sauce provocatively.

 

"Like I said, you should know your neighbors better. There's an adorable lady on the second floor who makes a spectacular carrot cake "

 

"You said you were my girlfriend?" He raised his eyebrows with a sly smile on his lips; Regina toyed with the spoon, resting it on his lips and Robin snatched it up, sucking the rest of the sauce as she pulled it gently.

 

"Do not cheer yourself up, cowboy. They are unlikely to assimilate the face of one of the neighbors' girlfriend to my face if they see any TV commercials. But if I were just a stranger, they would certainly suspect of me."

 

It made sense, and he knew it. "How did you have time to do all this?"

 

"Robin, talking to people takes minutes. Try to do it in the future."

 

"Maybe," he muttered, and drank some more of the beer. She continued to stare at him, as if trying to find something in his features. He could not explain what it was.He wouldn’t mind to have her in his life all the time, but at the same time he experienced the uncertainty of her presence. She could disappear at any moment and he could not stop her. The weight of that day slammed into his shoulders and he sighed.

 

"I attended the press conference." Her voice hit him like a rock. "What was that?"

 

"Gold knows I helped you escape." He stared at her for some time, the moment of flirting fading into the aura of seriousness and concern. "You're not safe here, Regina. Not even in my apartment. He will come after me and if he finds you..."

 

"Why would he come after me?"

 

"He sold you to Baryshnikov."

 

"What?" She walked away, annoyed. Her jugular leapt into the delicate skin of her neck, becoming visible, and her jaw tightened, demonstrating her disgruntled and defensive state. "Who does this man think he is?"

 

"He's dangerous, Regina."

 

"Just like Male. What do you think she'll do to me if she catches me?" She turned around; placed a hand on her forehead and paced back and forth until she turned to Robin, who stared at her with the same expression of gravity on his face. "How much?"

 

"I have no idea."

 

Silence settled between them. "Go take a shower. We'll talk about this after dinner. I don’t want to lose my appetite." She finished, and he simply watched her as she took a glass of wine from the table that he had not even noticed it and walked over to the living room sofa, sitting there and turning the television on. Resigned, he drank the last sips of his beer and walked toward his suite.

 

***

 

They had dinner in silence. It wasn’t really as if they needed a verbal connection - they were comfortable in the presence of each other as if they were old friends, except for the adverse circumstances where he should be hunting her and placing her behind the bars of a police station. Every now and then, Robin watched her and she returned the look, as if asking him what he wanted.

 

A smile crossed his face before he got up and carry his plate to the marble sink. He pulled the platters, the containers, everything she had left on the way. She was very messy. Marvelous as a cook, he had a duty to admit. He had not eaten anything so good in a long time; but whatever she used, she left it anywhere that she found it. He laughed, turning the faucet on and picking up the bushing at his side. Distracted, he did not even notice when she appeared until she set the plate on the dishes he was washing. She did not say anything, but turned around and took one of the dry napkins, polishing his porcelain before putting it in the proper places. He froze for a while watching her and she stared up at him. "What's it? I can’t help?"

 

"You can," he replied with a smile on his lips and she rolled her eyes.

 

"What do you intend to do about your boss?" She asked, piling the dishes in the cupboard. She was on tiptoe and the dress went up a bit, but Robin chose to turn his eyes to the dishes she was rubbing.

 

"I don’t know." He felt his jaw squeak. He was angry, definitely. Anger to have his dedication thrown to the River Thames, anger of having been diminished in front of the press. He was about to receive a royal award, and that collective had diluted all his chances of recognition. "But I will not let it go. Gold will pay me. They will all pay."

 

She leaned against the kitchen cupboard and stared at him. She watched his beautifully defined masculine abdomen, the sweatpants of an important college. He looked like a teenager in those clothes. She laughed and the laughter caught his attention.

 

"Laughing at me or for me?"

 

"Guess what."

 

He threw one of the dry napkins at her, but she caught it in the air, folded it and placed it on the counter. Performing that remotely domestic activity, he tried to understand what had happened to his life. The woman he'd been watching for years was drying his dishes in his apartment. His decorated boss had made an agreement with one of the most dangerous mobs on the European continent. He had been demoted to a position, his subordinate without any qualification had resumed his investigations. Regina would not stay there forever. She would never agree to becoming a kind and caring girlfriend who washes his dishes and cooks for him and kept waiting for her boyfriend to come home from work. He was damned for being such an idiot. It was clear to him that she did not even like him enough to date him.

 

"Stop." Her voice sounded calm and he awoke from his psychic trance.

 

"What?"

 

"You think too much, McLocksller. You analyze too much. You synthesize too much. You try to divide the information into smaller facts into a ridiculous attempt to find something hidden or some subliminal information when there is simply not. Life is not encrypted, agent. Allow yourself to live. Let some things go your way naturally."

 

She stepped away from him, taking the glass of wine and walking toward the dark blue chenille sofa. He noticed the pillow and the small comforter folded in the corner of it. "What are you doing?"

 

"I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight. I hope you don’t mind."

 

Robin scratched his head. What was her problem? He sighed, resigned, and went back to his room to get his notebook. He was still an officer, and as long as he did not figure out what he was going to do, he had to fulfill his obligations as if absolutely nothing had happened. And that was what he would do. Gold could not possibly suspect retaliation on the way. He walked over to the corner table in his room. There was a pile of her clothes, shopping bags among other things. A bag of La Perla caught his eye, but he did not dare open it. He carefully removed the notebook that was under some bags, but not with the proper skill. One of them fell to the floor and the contents fell on his feet.

 

He bent down and returned the robes to its original place, but something caught his attention. A green, suede envelope. He had seen several of these, but never in person. He had never touched one of them before. He turned the envelope, and found the wax button with the drawing of a raven.

 

The temptation that ran through his body and urged him to open the envelope was large, immense for his fullness as a man - but he did not yield. With some embarrassment, he returned the envelope to one of the bags. Raven had made contact with her. And she had not said anything. He walked to the doorway and watched the brunette lying on the couch watching some completely superficial talk show. In an internal war, he wondered how much he was involved with Carmen Sandiego. Was he acting with his heart or his reason? Could he trust her? Or was he about to commit a nefarious misunderstanding?


	14. Bugatti Veyron

Regina woke up with the peculiar smell of hamburger. She stared at the viewfinder above the led television and realized that it was still dawn; in spite of the night's gloom there was a beam of light coming from the kitchen. Carefully she undid the soft duvet and walked to the source of the sounds. Robin was sitting on the counter with a noticeably unhealthy snack in his hands, accompanied by a beer. He raised his eyebrows at her. "Did I wake you up?”

 

"Not you. But the smell of it does."

 

She opened the refrigerator and took out the bottle of wine; reached for a glass on the way, and sat down next to him, leaning against the counter.

 

"I discovered someone's weakness." He chuckled, pointing to the bottle. She smiled, filling the glass with the viscous liquid.

 

"My addiction is healthier than yours," she replied, pointing to the snack; he agreed with a shake of his head. "Could not sleep?"

 

“No.”

 

Regina stared at him for some time. She could feel something else was bothering him. From what little she knew of him, she could tell that he was too transparent with his emotions. At least when he was around her. She was not sure she could trust him; it depended on believing in her instincts and she had not had good experiences doing it. But something held her there and if she was willing to live whatever was truly happening she needed to be honest with herself and with him. "Robin, I have to tell you something."

 

"About the Raven?"

 

She held the glass in the air with wide eyes. "W-what?"

 

"I saw the envelope in the room." He finished his snack and turned his body toward her. She was still staring at him in surprise and her lips parted. "I didn’t open it. It's not my correspondence and I'm not investigating you, at least not inside my apartment. He fell out of a bag when I got my notebook, but I put it in place."

 

"You didn’t say anything."

 

"I'm not the police in here, Regina. I will not question you. I have no right to ask for satisfactions from your life."

 

"You have the right to distrust."

 

"Perhaps."

 

She sipped the wine once more. She turned to him. "Wait here."

 

She crossed the apartment and returned for a few moments. He noticed the envelope in her hands as she approached, and raised her hands in surrender. "You don’t have to show me anything if you do not want to, Regina."

 

"If I didn’t want you to know about it, you would not know. So take it and read it." She held out the envelope and sat back on the counter when he pulled it out of her hands. Carefully, he opened it and unfolded the letterhead.

 

_"Carmen,_

_I have no idea why you dared to get involved with this man. I hope, for the good of all concerned, that it is part of a calculating plan to carry out the work for which you were assigned. I know you're angry with me, though business is business. Do not play with me. The instructions are the same as always with respect to delivery._

_I know I asked you a lot but I guarantee it's the last job. You will be free to go. And finally we can be together._

_Do not disappoint me._

_The Raven."_

 

Robin slipped the folded paper back into the envelope. He put the envelope on the counter and Regina turned to face him. "Where was that?"

 

"It came with the purchase."

 

"He knows about us and doesn’t look very happy."

 

"I want him to fuck himself."

 

She took another sip. Robin was not sure he had heard her well. Carmen Sandiego had sent the Raven to fuck himself. He wanted to frame that moment. But before he boasted, he had many doubts to be healed.

 

"What's the job?"

 

It was the question she feared. The watershed that would define whether McLocksller was with her or against her. She was detailing a crime to a bailiff; there was no more logic to such a moment of her life.

 

"Steal the Royal Treasury."

 

He laughed. Genuinely. But after noticing that the features of her delicate face had not changed, he stopped. "Are you serious? It's suicide, Regina. Even for you. We are talking about the heritage of a first world country. You can not put it in someone's pocket."

 

She smiled at the reference. "But you can put it on someone else's account."

 

"You think it was a good idea to tell me?"

 

"If all goes well, the money will not go to Raven's hands. I'll deliver him."

 

"What? Will you deliver the man you're in love with?"

 

Regina was offended by that question, but she didn’t let him know. She took a deep breath, decorating small details of the sophisticated kitchen before plunging into his blue eyes again. "It took some time, McLocksller, but I realized what was happening. This is not a real relationship. Never was. He has given me security for some time and I am grateful for it. But I could have died. Several times. I will no longer risk my life for a person who does not care to be with me. Raven may have been an affectionate friend, but not a lover. I was blind or perhaps too lacking to realize. He must solve his problems with justice and with Baryshnokov. I can’t sacrifice myself for him anymore."

 

He glared at her, not knowing what to think. A thief with honor, definitely. An admirable character, he had an obligation to admit. He would never expect such an attitude from her; not for lack of confidence but for being totally out of past standards. Regina intended to deliver the object of her obsession and he would not even be rewarded for it. Killian would receive all the glory. The thought made him angry.

 

"You can take revenge on them and help me at the same time. Imagine the repercussion that will be when the press publishes that Carmen Sandiego and an Interpol agent robbed the Royal Family. Who dethroned a centenary empire of aristocracy? Gold will have much to explain. Just like Killian."

 

He looked a little surprised but not offended by the idea. In fact, it was a great revenge. He could imagine Gold and Jones against a sea of hungry tabloids. It was almost refreshing. It was also a way to make sure nothing would happen to her, and he hated himself internally for caring so much.

 

"You don’t have to answer now. Just promise me to think about it," she replied. Then he took the envelope and led it to the stove. He lit a flame and with the spatula, kept it on fire until it fell to ashes. "I clean the stove tomorrow. Try to sleep.”

 

She was about to leave the kitchen when he walked over to her. They remained in the half-light, his fingers caressing the skin of her wrist with his thumb delicately. "Robin?" She asked, returning the intense look he was giving to her. He slid his fingers down the side of her face, putting a few strands behind her ear.

 

"I wanted to kiss you from the moment I arrived."

 

"I'm not stopping you, McLocksller."

 

He slipped his hand between her hair and her neck, sliding it to the nape of her neck where he held it tightly and pulled her into a warm kiss. She kept her hands on his waist, playing with the elastic of the underwear he wore. Robin led her to the wall, leaning against her and continuing, their tongues sliding and caressing one another. The hunger that enveloped them was compulsory and intense; he lowered one hand and pulled her dress up to her hip where he squeezed possessively making her moan in his mouth. She slid her lips out of his kiss, making a trail of kisses that ran down his shoulders, chest, clavicle, until she planted a series of delicate kisses on his neck. Robin kissed her again, his fingers scattered between her hair, pressing her against him. She groaned and he gripped the hem of her dark dress but Regina put her hands over his and stopped him. Robin stopped the kiss and moved away just a little so he could look into her eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

 

She leaned on tiptoe and kissed his lips carefully. "You didn’t do anything wrong. I..." She took a deep breath seeking the stability she needed to finish that sentence. "We can not keep doing this. It will only make it harder for us to separate when it's all over. We don’t have chances together."

 

"Regina."

 

"Don’t make me fall in love with you, McLocksller. I couldn't bear to have my heartbroken.”

 

She stepped out of the gap between him and the wall and walk back into the living room. Robin stared at the wall, trying to placate what he was feeling and try to understand what had happened. He wanted her. He didn’t understand why it would be so bad that if she fell in love with him. After all, against all the legislative, reasonable or logical forces that surrounded them - he had fallen in love with her, unconditionally.

 

***

 

Regina woke up early. Robin listened to her cooking breakfast and although he was not ready to have a normal conversation after what she had said, he had no choice. When he came out of the bath he smelled the lovely scent of bacon and realized he would miss her presence. It had been two days, but he had not had any company there since he had bought the property; that was a new (and refreshing) reality.

 

He left the room almost ready. The hair was brushed back, the white social shirt, the pants of the gray Italian social suit. The tie neatly tied around his neck complemented the look. He stepped into the kitchen and felt her eyes scanning him from top to bottom. "Approved?" he teased.

 

"Certainly. It will impress the doorman." She bounced him with a smile and set a plate in front of him on the table. He noticed she was wearing dark jeans and black high boots. She also wore a dark gray hooded sweatshirt.

 

"Are you going somewhere?"

 

"Yes."

 

She sat at the table and began to eat. Robin gave another bite into his eggs with bacon and drank his coffee. "Regina... I meant it when I told you that you were wanted. Your face is under every city camera."

 

"I'll go with you and you'll drop me off at The Montcalm's parking lot."

 

"Work?" He asked with one eyebrow raised.

 

"No. Victoria."

 

He consented, aware of the intensity of the bonds that bound the two women. If there was anything close to family or friends for Carmen Sandiego, this someone was the Baroness. He didn’t think it was clever to her to take the risks; Gold or Baryshnikov would be lurking. But she was Carmen Sandiego. She knew how to take care of herself and how to take care of others. His worry was unnecessary.

 

"Alright."

 

He wondered if she was really leaving. Of not returning to the apartment anymore. But he decided she was not under his control. Freedom was all he could offer.

 

***

 

"I said you were going to impress the doorman," she teased as they went out into the basement. He smiled. "Hernandes is an idiot."

 

"Don’t blame him for being drawn to you. It's not difficult," she replied, making him stop; however, she kept walking with a devilish grin on her face. "Which one is your car?"

 

He started the alarm and she smiled enlightened at the car that whistled. Coated with a black tincture and an orange band, it was one of the most impressive models of the Bugatti Veyron.

 

"How does an Interpol agent have a two million dollar car?"

 

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." He smiled. They entered the car and within seconds were on the streets. He watched her eyes fixed on the outward landscape. "You don’t really like London, do you?"

 

"I like Covent Garden."

 

"That region is pretty much the opposite of the rest of London."

 

"Don’t get me wrong but... It's all very gray. Sophisticated. Minimalist. Everything in its millimetric places; all in their respective affairs. A country elegantly separated in brain (as known as Oxford) and legs and arms (as rest of London). You all are very... british."

 

"I'll consider it as a compliment."

 

"As you like it."

 

Quickly they entered the parking lot of The Montcalm and Robin parked elegantly beside the fire escape. She smiled. "You'd make a great criminal."

 

"And you'd make a great Interpol agent."

 

"Mon dieu! No. Certainly not born to wear dark gray tailleur. It hurts my fashion heart."

 

Robin laughed. She had this natural ability to make him smile, to make his day lighter. She was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy morning. She unbuckled her belt. "Regina," he called and signaled for her to wait. He reached under the seat and pulled out a Thunderbelt revolver, pulling it toward her. Regina looked at the gun, then stared at it. "Robin..."

 

"Regina, get the gun. You're not safe. It could be your only defense if something goes wrong."

 

"I'm not that person."

 

"It's not about being some kind of person or not. It is self-defense and this is not a crime. I'm not going to let you leave without the gun."

 

She took a deep breath and picked up the revolver. She activated the safety catch and put it into the front pocket of the sweatshirt. Carefully, she put on the hood. "Be safe," he said. She bit her lip and then held him with both hands by the lapel of his neat suit, pulling it toward her. Their mouths locked tightly, the heat spreading over their bodies, their tongues filling. She sucked his tongue as if to suck his soul and left him. "Be safe too, McLocksller."

 

She pulled on her sunglasses and got out of the car, running toward the staircase.


	15. The Montcalm

Walking along the corridors of the hotel, Regina remembered his lips. Soft, hot, avid. The kind of kiss that made her shiver completely, like a hot air balloon rising from inside her chest. Focus. She stared at the gray carpet centered in the corridor of the royal suites; a gray carpet with designs of undulating lines in a shade of red. Too soft, even for her who was wearing boots. She always admired luxury hotels and this had left nothing to be desired. The lamps embedded in the baseboards would bring to any passer-by the feeling of being on a catwalk. The pastel-clad walls adorned the Wengué wooden doors, the numbers and accoutrements of each suite were detached and translucent on the door leaf.

 

She stopped in front of Suite 507, took a deep breath and knocked at the door. Moments later, the door opened and she walked in, not even looking forward. She was already running the risk of wandering down the hotel corridor under the direction of its security cameras. Regina took off her hood and felt lighter.

 

"Hello to you, too," Victoria mumbled after closing the door. She passed by Regina and went to the table, taking the bottle of champagne by the neck. Standing, she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long sip of the drink.

 

Regina stood where she was, staring at the blonde in front of her. Victoria looked prettier and more elegant each time they met. She wore a white dress with a design that reminded her of the old cuts of Dolce & Gabbana. The thin straps embossing her clavicle, the trim of silk favored her body. Victoria walked to a padded chair and sat down, stretching her legs over its arm.

 

"What's the matter now, Victoria?"

 

"Why did you come back?" Hissed the blonde.

 

Regina laughed, shaking her head. But she didn’t move. She stayed in the same place, wondering how good her initiative had been to accept that meeting.

 

"I'm glad to see you too, merci," she replied, her voice steeped in irony. Her eyes searched the suite for the first time. Luxury was not the right word. There was something noble, something about royalty, an imperial word to be invented to describe that place. There was something about how the large decorated mirror on the wall reflected the furniture drawn in glass by large sculptors; the color game; the soft, unimaginable materials that covered the little sofas; the exotic and fragrant plants that decorated the furniture. She could imagine what the room was like, and her eyes glittered in anticipation.

 

"I'll just be happy to see you again if I know the reason you came back." Victoria continued, placing the bottle on the tempered glass table and nervously stirring the sparkling pearl necklace around her neck. Regina sighed and moved, walking aimlessly, just admiring the place. She had no idea what to say. As her only friend, the Baroness knew her as no one else - and this terrified her.

 

Regina walked to the armchair on the other side of the table. She sat facing her friend and crossed her legs, resting her arms on the comfortable arms of the furniture and bringing the back of her hand to her lips. Her eyes drifted apart for some time.

 

"You accepted the mission?" She could feel the fragility of the question in Victoria's tone. Her friend was afraid of the answer, perhaps because she knew there was no other answer. She premeditated what would come, and that worried her. When her eyes met Victoria's, she could see what was in them. To her surprise, there was no anger. Just concern. "Please tell me you did not."

 

The brunette smiled sadly. Victoria closed her eyes and cupped her bottom lip, trying to keep control of her emotions. Regina would die before completing that transaction. No one overthrew a country like London alone. Not even Carmen Sandiego. She could not understand why it was so difficult for the brunette to get on a plane and return to the bucolic quietness of her private island. Regina was the family she had, outside her husband, and she was not willing to give it up, not even for the Royal Treasury.

 

"I hope you have a good explanation for that," she concluded, unable to stare at chocolate brown eyes.

 

"I have. Will you hear me at least?"

 

"I'll try," she replied, standing up and walking to the window. She stared at the movement of the streets, the strong sun rising outside; the vehicles that filled their seats on the bustling streets of Westminster. Regina walked slowly toward her and sat outside the window on an ivory counter.

 

"I'll hand over the Raven and get the money."

 

Blue eyes quickly stared at Regina as if she had said she would assassinate the President of the United States of America. Victoria stopped breathing for a few seconds until she regained consciousness that the woman next to her had actually uttered those words.

 

"Are you going to hand over the Raven?" Regina nodded, her head rising and falling in a non-verbal confirmation signal. Victoria continued to stare at her. She began to doubt whether what was happening was really real or a hallucination caused by champagne. "Carmen Sandiego will hand over her mentor, boss and lover to Interpol?"

 

Regina had stopped smiling, which convinced the Baroness that she was serious. "Regina... That's..." Victoria stepped out of the window, walking bewildered by the suite. She sat down again in the padded chair. "What happened? How did you decide that? I mean..."

 

"Robin and I..." she began, but a look of Victoria shut her up. The blonde seemed to have had some immediate insight.

 

"You're involved with that Interpol agent." The brunette's silence encouraged her to continue. "Did you fuck him? My God, what's on your mind, woman? He's lurking to get you behind bars, for God's sake!"

 

"If he wanted me in prison he wouldn’t have helped me escape in Venice."

 

"Fuck Venice, Regina!" Victoria's self-control was fading fast. "The Raven will kill you if he distrusts this betrayal! It seems like you forgot who he is."

 

"I don’t know who he is, carajo! Do you know? That would explain a lot, would not it?"

 

Victoria looked at her like a wounded animal. Both had gone from thin talk to charged accusations in minutes. "Are you accusing me of betraying you?"

 

"You tell me, The Devil."

 

"I don’t know who he is, Regina. But if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. I would never tell you. Because you would run after him, throw yourself at the feet of a man who does not deserve you. For a man who manipulates you with these odd gifts and you do not even realize that it's you who pays for them."

 

"Shut the hell up."

 

"The truth hurts, doesn't it, Carmen Sandiego? Find out that your fairy tale is actually an abusive relationship. Find out that - voila - you're not as smart as you think.”

 

Regina walked over to her with heavy steps. "Who are you to tell me this? Of all the people, precisely the thief who has abandoned her job to marry no less than a baron." Regina smiled mischievously. "True love, for sure."

 

She didn’t know how or from where Victoria had picked up that revolver. With a quick movement, the blonde wielded the weapon and pointed at her; the immediate trigger for Regina was to grab the revolver Robin had given her and point at the blonde. Their eyes met, and Regina thought about what that meant. It was so wrong. Was she pointing a gun at Victoria in defense of Raven? Victoria was her family.

 

Regaining her consciousness, she lowered her weapon. Victoria looked at her intently. "What are you doing? Raise your gun now. Let's settle this."

 

Regina walked toward her, coming closer until she felt the barrel of the revolver in her chest. She met the blue eyes calmly. "If you want, you shoot. I'm not going to shoot you. I should never even have aimed a revolver. You are my family, and I love you, Vic. I'm sorry for all this mess."

 

With her eyes watering, Victoria dropped the gun and hugged the brunette, squeezing her into a tight hug. "You're a really bad best friend, darling." Her arms stroked her back as Regina smiled into her neck.

 

"I know."

 

***

 

Seated on the floor between bottles of champagne, they resumed the rhythm of their regular conversations. With complicity. Regina was sipping one of the bottles straight from the bottleneck when she heard her ask.

 

"You mean he'll help you? That agent."

 

"Yes. But only in the bureaucratic part. With access."

 

"He can do much more than that. He's from Interpol."

 

Regina lowered her eyes, putting a lock of her hair behind her left ear. "I don’t want him to get hurt, Vic."

 

It took some time, but Victoria finally realized what was happening there. That was why her best friend was ready to deliver Raven. That was why she had returned. Regina was in love with that man. She had refused this option because Carmen Sandiego didn’t fall in love. The only man who had managed to win the woman's heart was dead, and since then she had become involved with many, but she had loved none.

 

Until that moment.

 

"You're in love with him."

 

Regina stared at her for a few seconds. Her shoulders relaxed and she confirmed, her eyes sad. "Yes."

 

"But... if you're already 'getting well' and the Raven will be arrested, why don’t you think about being with him? You know - lead a dull, quiet life like a normal couple?"

 

"Because he's a sensational man, Victoria. He deserves a better person than me."

 

The baroness watched her for a few seconds, reproving her behavior as an emotional martyr. Regina never allowed herself to be happy and that was incredibly annoying. This man had sacrificed much of himself for her. He could lose not only his job or his freedom, but his life to help her, and even then, there he was. She did not know him very well, but suddenly she felt tempted to hope that they would stay together. He would do her good, surely. After everything Regina had told her about how he was also in the spotlight of his boss - they could only get through that abyss together.

 

"I wasn’t made for this life," grunted the brunette.

 

Victoria rolled her eyes, rising. "Stop talking nonsense." She walked over to her purse, on the table, and removed a brown envelope.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Something you need to know."

 

Realizing the change in her friend's tone, Regina quickly rose and headed toward her. Victoria extended the envelope and waited silently for the brunette to open it. As soon as she had done so, her face held back, declaring her complete shock.

 

"How is this possible?"

 

"Do not underestimate your enemies, Carmen."

 

Regina swallowed, and let the pictures fall to the floor as she walked to the table and took one of the countless bottles, hurling it against the wall and making pieces of glass scattered everywhere.

 

Carefully, Victoria collected the photos and set them on the table. Staring at it again, she wondered how Cora Mills knew Gold and since when they were such close friends.

 

***

 

Robin walked relaxed across the parking lot. He heard footsteps behind him and looked briefly back, but saw no one. Following his reflection, he placed his hand on the gun at his waist. The perimeter was not exactly well-lit what hurt him in terms of vision, but he couldn’t care less.

 

He kept walking, and heard footsteps behind him again. He turned with his gun in his hand, but found no one. When he turned to the corridor of the letter M, he identified her. It took no more than seconds; approached his Bugatti Veyron and found Maleficent Baryshnikov sitting on its hood. The steps behind him intensified, but he already imagined that they were his russian henchmen, so he did not bother to confirm.

 

"What do you want?" He asked.

 

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her lips painted scarlet red framed a devilish grin, her body set covered by a feminine tuxedo and fair. Her golden hair fell over her shoulders, the top of her head covered by a black hat.

 

"You know what I want, Robin."

 

"This is not under negotiation, Male."

 

"Exact. I'm not negotiating. She has something that belongs to me and I want it back."

 

"Get over that crap," he mumbled, approaching his car. With only a single movement, he caught her legs and pulled them up, sitting down in front of her. Their faces leveled and they exchanged a look of contempt. "And get off my car."

 

"You're ruining everything, McLocksller."

 

"I don’t remember asking your opinion. Don’t you have some illegal business to manage in Poland, or the Netherlands or anywhere else that does not bother me?"

 

"You know what she'll say about it," she teased, with a wicked smile on her lips.

 

Robin took a deep breath and pulled her by the arm, making her get closer to him. "You know what I have to say? Don’t stand in my way. You are not exactly in a position to favor it and I can make it worse on different levels. Is that what you want? May I decide to stand against you?"

 

"No," she replied, her voice coming out in a low, uncomfortable tone.

 

"I figured not." Robin turned off the car alarm and put his purse in the passenger seat. "Oh, and Male," he said, coming closer to her. "I have not forgotten what your russian protégés have done to me in London. Don’t think there will be no return."

 

"You were not the target and you know it."

 

Robin smiled. He moved closer to her and leaned over her face, directing a whisper in her ear. "Someone will pay for it. You're warned."

 

Seconds later, he got into his luxurious vehicle and disappeared through the narrow aisles. Male stared at the floor for a while, swallowing her own saliva in an absurd attempt to wet her trachea. She took a deep breath and looked up, staring at her security guards. "This is your fault, idiots."

 

Without patience, she pulled a revolver out of her pocket and shoot at the head of one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who are following my story, and leaving comments & kudos. Y'all are awesome. And my regular thank you to my beta Vanes, because she is awesome


	16. Emma

Robin parked in the garage of his building. He took a deep breath, looking around intently. He loosened his tie, his eyes lost somewhere on the dashboard of his car. He pulled the cell phone from the front pocket of his purse and dialed some numbers as he ran the dice through his blond hair. A female voice was heard from the other side, identifying itself.

 

"Solve this standoff with your protegee Baryshnikov."

 

"What did Male do this time?"

 

"Either you get her out of my way, or I'll take her out of ours. My methods are quite effective, you know. "

 

"Consider it settled."

 

The call was terminated and he stretched the muscles of his neck before he left the car.

 

***

 

Regina stared at the notebook in front of her with irritation. On the table, there was the floor plan of the London National Safe, along with the list of staff, their schedules and their duties. The problem was that the room where the Treasury bonds stayed was the most impossible to infiltrate. There was no passage. Walls more than one meter thick and lined with steel plates to prevent excavations.

 

The only ventilation outlet was very well calculated, shaped like a shoebox. Not even a child could get through it. She considered the options. Electronic panel protected by porthole and two concealed doors. The layer of tempered concrete and steel sheets were even higher in the ground, vetoing the possibility of a tunnel. Her eyes stared at the notebook, plugged into all the security cameras. Le merde. There was no way of getting in, not through the front door. A heavy door, made of titanium cast with steel, with the most complex locking system available.

 

If the Raven had given her this mission, it was because there was a way. He did not choose randomly. He knew something she had not yet discovered, but it would not be long. She heard the sound of keys and the door opening. Seconds later, he appeared in front of her. His blue eyes stared at her intensely, and she almost sighed. He was too handsome, she had to admit.

 

"Hi."

 

"Hi."

 

He stared at the floorplan stretched out on the table for seconds and then stared back at her. "Working?”

 

"Yes." He backed away, walking toward the bedroom. A few minutes later, he returned without the suit and shirt open to the middle of his belly. She did not turn to look at him, but she sensed his presence behind her. "And we don’t have food."

 

"I'll ask for delivery. What do you want?"

 

"Shawarma."

 

He stared at her back. "Oh really? Arabic food? Could not you order a pizza or pasta?"

 

She turned around with a smile on her lips. "You gave me the power of choice. Deal with it."

 

Robin scratched the back of his neck, thinking. He dropped his shoulders, clearly relaxed. "I'll look into the app. I’m gonna take a shower, so call me if you need anything.”

 

She watched him walk back toward the suite with a mischievous thought dancing in her mind. A few minutes later, she wrenched herself from her reverie. She had to concentrate and find a way out of her real problem.

 

***

 

It was almost dawn when her head began to throb. She put her documents in a brown leather bag and closed the notebook.The sound of the baseball game reverberated for the entire room, catching her attention.

 

Regina walked into the room with the bottle of wine, and he quickly composed himself, sitting upright on the couch. She smiled with his gesture, but passed him and sat down on the floor, running her fingers down the rug beneath her. "Tired?" He asked.

 

"Exhausted. My head is going to explode."

 

"You spent hours studying that. Maybe if you didn’t find anything that’s because there is nothing to be found."

 

She turned her face to look at him better. Robin was irresistible in those college sweatpants and he knew it. The elastic clinging to the lower part of his pelvis highlighted the muscles that made their way into his pants. It was lost between the abdomen and the thick, defined arms. When she realized he had noticed, she met the blue eyes. "There has to be something, McLocksller."

 

He wanted to ask so many questions but he knew she would back down to the interrogation. Unfortunately he watched her long enough to notice when something was wrong. He could see in the delicate countenance the lines of worry. "What happened, Regina?"

 

"Why do you ask?"

 

"I can count in one hand the words we have exchanged since I arrived. I’ve to agree that you're not the most communicative person I've ever met, but this is clearly an atypical behavior."

 

To tell or not to tell. This was the dilemma that tormented her. At the same time her primitive instincts told her to trust, her vast experience told her otherwise. In this internal struggle, her facets debated as gladiators.

 

"I need to show you something," she began, taking a folded paper from the pocket of her shorts. She held it out, and Robin unfolded the photo. Gold and a woman seemed intimate in some coffee. They both was smiling and he was touching her hand.

 

"Gold has a girlfriend. It's no big deal, even though she's too pretty for him."

 

"Robin, this woman is my mother."

 

He sat upright. "Your mother? How do they know each other? Since when? Does she know you're Carmen Sandiego?"

 

"Take it easy, cowboy. I already have enough problems to add a homemade interrogation."

 

"Sorry," he apologized, standing up and sitting down next to her. Their shoulders touched and she laid her head on his shoulder, lacing her fingers through his. "I know it's bad to have your mother involved in this. But you need to find out the nature of their relationship." He said, his voice so calm and sweet.

 

"I know. I just... I'm scared. I have a bad feeling about this theft. It looks like something is going to go wrong."

 

"Leave that idea behind. Go away. You don’t have to risk your life."

 

She turned to face him. "I can’t do that. I won’t go back after my decision to deliver him. And for that, I need to complete the mission."

 

Robin allowed herself to look into her eyes. In the depth of feelings, pains and stories mixed in that tone of velvety chocolate. Framed eyes on a perfect face; rosy, bulky lips decorated with an almost imperceptible scar. He wanted to kiss her so much, but the mood between them had become unstable. Not a good idea to risk everything.

 

"Why not? Why is it so important?"

 

"He knows what happened between us. You will not be safe while he's loose."

 

She was protecting him. Regina was risking everything to give him the opportunity to continue living in peace. "Why do you care? You owe me nothing, Regina. I don’t expect you to do that for me."

 

"Because I like you. I really like you, McLocksller. And I don’t want you to get hurt."

 

Robin kissed the top of her head, hugging her and fighting the urge to kiss her. "So trust me. Let's find a way out of this. Together."

 

***

 

Wrapped in a Hermes handkerchief, Male was watching the Thames. The sky has darkened gradually, though the sun had faded away recently. Positioned in the center of the Tower Bridge observation deck, she waited. She couldn’t understand the charm that those towers made of gold and concrete had of so interesting, but she had given up on understanding the sights anyway. It was enough that other wire tower in the middle of Paris.

 

She rolled her eyes and pressed the overcoat against her body. The temperature was in an imminent decline; and being 65 feet off the ground was not exactly a point in her favor.

 

"Did you know that this bridge was made in 1894?" The familiar voice took Baryshnikov out of her reverie. She lined up, facing the woman in front of her. She was still as beautiful as ever, and that made her bowed in an indirect way.

 

"Such an obsolete thing should be vetoed."

 

She smiled. "It's a tourist spot, Male. Did you know that it was purposefully built to adorn the London Bridge?" But the answer never came. "You need to stop." Her voice came cold. Placed in an inhospitable place between an order and a threat. She did not turn to face her.

 

"I just want what belongs to me."

 

"It's not yours if you intended to give it to me, Male!" Replied the mysterious woman, who wore a feminine Armani suit, very closely tied to her body. She was gorgeous, her golden hair falling gently on her shoulders. Facing the russian, she looked nervous. "I'm not the one to blame for what happened! It was not part of the plan. You - were not part of the plan."

 

"You robbed me and I was not part of the plan?"

 

"It wasn’t part of the plan to have a relationship with you. I should never have given in." Her green eyes expressed sincerity, and Male was beginning to feel regret that she had come here. Those words would linger in her existence for many years.

 

"You didn’t give in just once. You gave in over and over again. Enough to make me buy that extravagant diamond. And then you stole it." Male took a deep breath, teary eyed. She walked over to her, and their bodies were dangerously close. She stared at her thin lips and sighed. "Why do you want the diamond if you will not stay with me?"

 

"Male ... I love him."

 

"You don’t love that fucking brat. He is a distraction to you. A hobby."

 

"Don’t talk about what you don’t know." The blonde walked over to her and removed the large ring from her ring finger. "Take it, and be so kind as to forget me." She laid it on the russian's palm, moving away in the opposite direction.

 

"Emma ..." she called.

 

The blonde stopped and turned partially to look at the other woman closely. "Get out of the way, Male. I'm asking because I care about you. If you keep messing up, Robin will do things his way and I can’t protect you."

 

"He's involved. Are you consenting to that?"

 

"That is not your concern. Take your russian kids and go home. Things are going to look really ugly and it's safer for you to be away."

 

Male held the bar of contention, her heart racing. "What are you going to do, Emma?"

 

But Emma never give her an answer. She continued walking in the opposite direction, until minutes later she had disappeared.


	17. Clerkenwell Road

 

Robin stared at the clock whose bottom was a small drawing of the London Eye. He took a deep breath, staring at the sound of coffee dripping into his electric coffeepot, and the phenomenal aroma filled his nostrils. He had gone to an untouchable corner of France behind this cafe and did not regret it in any moment. The best grain ever cultivated by man.

 

His eyes stared at her little mess on the lower counter and a sigh made itself present. It was a great dilemma, an equation totally independent of formulas. What Regina sought was a perfection that had never even been attempted. Footsteps caught his attention and she stepped into his field of vision, her hair falling on her shoulders covered by a sports sweater; her legs tightened in a blue wash jeans that only reminded him of how attractive she was.

 

She leaned over and picked up one of the cups on the top shelf, so the sweatshirt went up and he could see the flash of her skin soft and lucid. There were two cups of shelves under it, it was some teasing - it could only be. "New appointments?" He asked, fearing that she would cut him off and interrupt his attempt of conversation. But she smiled, lighting her face and filling her cup with coffee before looking into his eyes smiling.

 

"Actually, work."

 

He nodded, nodding. The almond-shaped chocolate eyes stared at his and they stood there, stuck in the moment. As if there was much to be said, but neither of them dared take the initiative. Robin finished his drink, but stayed where he was - hypnotized by the look she threw at him. "You know..." she began, breaking the bond and looking away at his suit. "You look good in that shade of blue? Almost looks like a normal person."

 

He laughed. "Am I not a normal person?"

 

"You're an Interpol agent."

 

"You may not believe it, but there are humans working at Interpol. Very normal humans."

 

She rolled her eyes, looking good-humored. He loved this side of her. "If you didn’t tell me, I would never believe you."

 

Regina came quickly and took the cup from his hands. "Do you want more?”

 

The question came innocently, but he hadn’t understood it so lightly. Staring at her, her dark hair framing her delicate face, her firm features, her lipstick rosé, he wanted more. He wanted more from her. As if reading the thoughts that occupied the agent's mind, she laughed, and her laughter - a sweet, contagious sound - made him come back to reality. "I was asking about the coffee, McLocksller."

 

He swallowed the spare saliva, clearing his throat in the wrong and embarrassed way. She ignored his discomfort, taking the cups to the sink and washing them carefully. She turned to him, watching silently. The game of silence matched them. After a while, she sighed. "Listen, I'm going after Gold. You will not stop me, Robin. I need to know who he is because he was after my mother. By now, he may know who Regina Mills is and it does not suit me at all."

 

He wanted to tell her that she was putting herself in danger. That messing with Gold was not a good idea, not even for Carmen Sandiego. He was an old bastard who had connections all over the place - and considering that he had sold her to Baryshnikov, those connections were not limited only to the side of justice. But she was a determined woman, someone whose integrity was not easily undermined and her opinion could not be shaped. If she had decided, he could just let her go.

 

"Alright." She demonstrated her complete surprise with her incredulous eyes and half-opened lips. "But be careful."

 

"No objection? What happened to you?"

 

"I've learned to trust you."

 

She stared at him, paralyzed. So he trusted her. He trusted her capacity and her abilities. His chest began to burn and he smiled, moving away from the kitchen and back to his room. Regina followed him with her eyes intent, a simple smile rising at the corner of her lips. Her heart pounded and she wondered what was going on - but she could not afford to it. They had no future together. This was her mantra, repeated so often every time he smiled, or stared at her with his deep blue eyes or down the aisle with those pants falling on the hip bone. But he continued, repeatedly, reaching beneath her defense. Hitting her heart with generous, kind words, words of encouragement and flattery.

 

She stared at the spot where she had left the ground floor of the bench and approached, her thoughts taken by calculations and all the approaches she had listed for an invasion, though none of them were safe. As much as she tried to think, she seemed more and more far from the solution to this riddle. She took a deep breath and walked over to the counter, grabbing her backpack. She put it on her shoulder, picked up her cell phone, and walked to the door. He was in the hallway, so the meeting was inevitable. "Are you leaving already?"

 

"What can I say? Living with a Londoner is affecting me more than usual."

 

He smiled, and she blinked at him, opening the door and closing it behind her. Robin took a deep breath, staring at the door. He knew he was wrong. He was going against the whole plan, he was risking it and knew exactly who would confront him for it. Shaking his head, he returned to his room.

 

***

 

Hanging by iron chains, Sidney Glass was bleeding. He had bruises all over his body, and hanging by his feet helped the blood flow in the opposite direction. He spat and blood spilled across the floor. Seconds later, the pair of white boots entered his field of vision. He opened his eyes with difficulty, but instead of the dark-bearded henchmen and dubious tattoos, a pair of blue eyes stared at him.

 

"Good morning, darling."

 

His mouth was dry and his body felt even heavier. His lungs worked with difficulty, but he heard clearly when she dismissed almost everyone present, keeping only one of the boys by the door. The Devil had never been exactly a strategist. She was an excellent thief, of clean and unproven work. But after marrying the baron, she had resources and resources - even though she was officially retired - she was given enormous achievements.

 

"The Devil."

 

"We don’t need formality, Mr. Glass," she replied, dragging a chair by the blood on the floor and pulling it close to him. She sat elegantly in her white trench-coat, at a reasonably safe distance.

 

"How can I be useful, Victoria?"

 

"I want you to tell me what the hell Baryshnikov wants with Carmen."

 

"Always protective, huh," he teased, but she looked at him with contempt and he said nothing.

 

"You see, darling... We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either you talk, or I'll have to make you talk and it's going to hurt a little."

 

"I don’t know much about her."

 

She stared at her own nails, bored. "You were in a merger, do not make me a fool."

 

"A merger does not mean much to a great russian mafia boss. I had no access to anything personal to her. The merger was a facade so she had access to my employees."

 

"And why would she do that? What do your pretty little employees have to be so essential?"

 

"Some of them met Carmen."

 

It was obvious. She reasoned about his question, and it was rather obvious. The problem was she had not thought of it before. One of his staff had betrayed Carmen and she needed to find the deserter.

 

"Who was?"

 

"Victoria, this..."

 

"Listen to me, you pathetic bitch. Either you give me a name or you'll pay for it. You have five seconds. Five, four, three... "

 

"It was Ursula. Ursula Octopus."

 

The world collided in her chest in that small moment. Ursula had betrayed both Victoria and Regina. Worse than being fooled by the woman with whom she had spent countless torrid nights, it was to be aware that it was Victoria who had brought them together. Victoria who had been the bridge between the two of them, who took them to the pub, which presented them. Repentance sprouted in her chest, as did the blaze of revenge. The rage of being used. "Why does Baryshnikov want to kill Carmen? Why all this effort?"

 

"She had no intention to kill Carmen. From what I understood, among their conversations in russian and polish, Carmen would be used as a bargaining chip or as bait."

 

"A bait for the Raven." The blonde concluded loudly. "Very well, Mr. Glass." She got up and walked over to him, carefully picking up one of the pennants - her favorite, with the small nails at the end and slamming hard against the man's chest. "That was for Carmen. But do not worry, you will survive. They will release you as long as you keep your mouth shut. If I know you have spoken about me or what happened here, you will be remembered as the tongueless man found in a barrel set afire in the middle of the Thames. Understood?"

 

He shook his head, confirming with despair. She smiled devilishly. "And another thing. Find a replacement for Miss Octopus. She's already a dead woman."

 

***

 

Regina chose an apartment with the perfect view of the windows of the Interpol activity squad. The owner of the apartment - a frenchman who worked on a boat and often spent weeks away would not give her trouble until he showed up. With her Coleman Silhouette binoculars, she approached the window and stared at the building opposite. A few windows were just white men in their clean agent suits, with bored and serious faces. She climbed a step. There was movement and a lot of computers. She stared at the familiar face of Killian Jones, the man who had replaced Robin. He was definitely attractive, but by the way the other agents rolled their eyes behind him she could tell that beauty did not extend to character.

 

She had not had time to put microphones in the building, but she wouldn’t come home with her hands empty. There was a tracker in Gold's car, and she would track it all over Europe if need be. She looked up at his window.

 

A pretty redheaded girl, pleated skirt - they could wear pleated skirts at Interpol, good news - she smiled sweetly at the old man and Regina wondered what that girl was doing. He was reading papers and shouting at some men who came into his room, but he treated the girl with education and care. Regina’s stomach fluttered as the old man slid his hand to the nape of the girl’s neck and pulled her into a kiss. Her stomach complained of the sight and she felt temporarily angry. He could even be her grandfather. She opened the Interpol database on the notebook beside her and scanned the photos. Belle French. She noted the name on the notepad of her cell phone.

 

She returned to her watch, and then she saw him. In front of the fourth window on the third floor, there was him. Staring at the street beneath them, as if thoughts were absorbing him. He looked handsome. He had pulled the top off his suit revealing the blue social shirt that traced the contour of his arms making them appear even stronger and more muscular. A navy blue vest was tied to his body. Robin was a very handsome man, and looking at him only made her want to... Focus, she repeated. Focus on work. But her eyes did not obey her. She continued to stare until he returned to the inside of the room and moved away from her sight, forcing her back to her activities. When Regina returned to focus on Gold's room, he was not there. She scoured the floor but did not find it. He could have taken Belle to the bathroom, but she wanted to erase that hypothesis from her mind. A beep sound made her wake up. He was leaving.

 

Unhurried, she picked up her things and stuffed them into her backpack as she dialed some numbers. A male voice answered.

 

"Ballard."

 

"Jake, it's me."

 

Seconds passed before he smiled in such a genuine way that she could almost hear from herside of the line. "Carmen Sandiego! Who would say ... It's like seeing a dead man rise from the ashes. "

 

"It's what's being said about the phoenix," she teased.

 

"How can I be useful for you, baby?"

 

"I need a dossier on Eugene Gold."

 

"Interpol?" His voice didn’t show any slightest change and that was what she liked most about him. Jake didn’t ask impertinent questions, only those that were necessary to do the job. Nothing more.

 

"Yes. Include Belle French."

 

"Okay," he chuckled, before a brief moment of silence. "You're messing with the big boys, Carmen."

 

"I know. But believe me, they messed with me first. When do I have an answer?"

 

"We meet in the Draughts. It is in North East. 8pm.”

 

"I will be there."

 

She was coming down the stairs to the emergency exit, her eyes fixed on the moving point she was tracking, and her ear pinned to the phone. "It was good to hear your voice again, Carmen."

 

"I say the same, Ballard. Send a hello to Olivia.”

 

***

 

Regina made her way to Clerkenwell Road. Her tracks ended on the A5201, in front of a newsstand that was on the corner of this street with St John's Square. She got into St John and parked the car, walking by foot. Stared at the bicycles parked on the sidewalk perpendicular to the bench and kept walking. There was a little bistro named The Bear, but she gave only a small glance from the outside and did not observe much movement; and according to the waiter, no one with that description had passed by.

 

Across the street, there was a display of handicrafts. A gray building, of rustic architecture and well restored, but nothing that would be useful to her. Confused, she returned to the Clerkenwell Road and walked in the opposite direction from the newsstand. Upon arriving in front of The Fourteenth Colonie, she spotted him. Sitting at one of the tables near the counter, talking to a Caucasian man, with dark, straight hair, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. They were not drinking anything, so she figured it was a quick date. The other man listened intently.

 

Regina looked around and worked up a quick plan. Two houses from there, there was a small grocery store. She walked toward the venture and walked in, smiling at the clerk and asking for juice. Careful, she kept her eyes on the street. She wondered what a man like Gold was doing there, negotiating with a guy who certainly had nothing to do with the international or even the national police.

 

She drank two glasses of juice, and nothing had happened. She talked to the clerk a bit - her name was Greta, she had two lovely kids and she lived in Fareham. Somewhat far, but work is work and she had children to support. The red dot began to move on her cell phone and Regina left a handful of notes to Greta. "Thank you!" She shouted, already on the street.

 

She looked around intently. The boy in jeans and t-shirt went the other way. She started to walk quickly, diverting from people and receiving reproachful glances as she approached him. He did not look rushed, he was actually walking nonchalantly. When she put her hand on his shoulder and shoved him into the corner, he just watched her startled - as if he'd never been approached.

 

"Lady, I think you mistook me for someone."

 

"What did Gold want with you?" She asked, holding him against the wall. His face went from frightened to confused.

 

"Who's Gold?"

 

She thought it might be a disguise. But if he was hiding something, he would have already pushed her and run. This guy was ready for anything but not for running. He had not even left the wall. "That man you were with at the Fourteenth."

 

"Is he called Gold? He said his name was Rumple. But what the hell of name is Rumple. I should have suspected."

 

"And what did he want?"

 

"Why is it important?"

 

She moved closer to him, leaning against his body and placing a hand on the wall - next to his face. Anyone who went down the street would only condemn them for being two lovers in love.

 

"I don't have patience for bullshit. Either you tell me what he wants or I'm going to stick a stun gun into your cock and burn all your future offspring until thirty years from now. What is going to be?"

 

"He wanted me to research a person for him."

 

"Why did he choose you to do it? Are you a researcher, a police officer, a private investigator?"

 

"I work with computers, lass. I was arrested by the police for hacking the computer of FIFA and the Legalité Bank in Paris. He said if I helped him they would clean my file."

 

"Who did he ask you to investigate?"

 

"A man named Archie Hopper." Regina did not identify the name, it was completely anonymous. Why would Gold go after this man? For what? The boy continued. "He told me that this guy Archie cleaned his tracks and to find anything he would need to be a person capable of breaking firewalls and decrypting the deep web."

 

She released the boy, but he stood in front of her. Confused, she wondered what he was waiting for.  “Qu’est que c’est?”

 

"I should do the research or..." He looked genuinely confused.

 

She smiled. "Yes ... what's your name again? Don’t answer, just show me your identity so I know it's not a lie." The boy picked up the document quickly. "Mr. Miguel Calabasas. Do the research, give it to him, follow what you have agreed. But forget it happened. Forget I approached you. That I asked you questions. Pretend that nothing happened and you will not know the intensity of the stun gun. Bonne journée, monsieur."

 

He pulled away and did not look back. Feeling the weight of a gigantic fatigue on her shoulders, she decided she had time for a relaxing massage before meeting with Jake.


	18. Draughts

He was close to the floor, his upper limbs bending into the hundredth flexing when the phone rang and his eyes caught her name. Continuing to exercise with just one arm, he took the device and held it to his ear.

 

"McLocksller."

 

"Hey." He thought her voice sounded distant, and he shook his head. Getting rid of this kind of ridiculous thinking was also an exercise to be carried out with dedication. "I'll take a little longer to show up. Don’t lock me out."

 

"Where are you?"

 

"Down at Haggerston station."

 

He frowned. "Why?"

 

"I need to find a friend in a gaming pub. That's so American..."

 

"It's Draughts. I used to go when I was a teenager."

 

She laughed on the other end of the line. "It must be a very old pub."

 

"Comedian," he snapped, but realized he was smiling. Damn Carmen.

 

"Are you running?"

 

"Working out."

 

"Oh. Exciting."

 

"Those muscles do not define by themselves."

 

He smiled, imagining her biting her lips and remembering his muscles. He almost could see her face lit up and her mischievous eyes, her cheeks high in a youthful facial mask. "You must be working pretty hard over there..." She teased and he swallowed. Yeah, she had won that round.

 

"Not as much as you and that friend you meet."

 

He hated himself immediately after the words escaped his lips. He was jealous and now she knew it too. He slapped the cell phone against his right temple, disappointed with his stupidity.

 

"Robin..." He heard her voice soften, an attempt to calm him.

 

"I should not have said that. I’m sorry."

 

"It’s alright..." An awkward silence settled between them, and he cursed himself for making such a fool of himself. "I'll be late. Stay well, McLocksller. See you."

 

When she hung up, he stopped what he was doing and lay down on the floor. Now Regina knew he was jealous. And she had censured him, lowering the tone and ending the conversation. As if she wanted to avoid it. Robin stared at the ceiling, digesting the jealous and envying feelings that spilled over his chest like oil paint. He imagined Regina in a short black dress and a dark sock contouring her killer legs; her dark brown hair sliding down her shoulders, her mouth well marked with a red lipstick. He imagined a man like Damon Salvatore, handsome, sophisticated, well-endowed financially dancing with her, running his hands over the small, delicate body, touching her in a way that made her moan down and squirm around the touch. She imagined Regina laughing, unconcerned, bereft. He imagined her with her eyes closed allowing some college boy to undress her, imagined her undressing another man. Regina Mills, or Carmen Sandiego - it did not matter. She was driving him crazier every day, every day of coexistence, every smile, every splinter, every affection, every estrangement. He could no longer imagine his apartment without the mess she'd left on the way; without tripping over the shoes left on the corners.

 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could feel jealous, but she was not guilty. Regina had been very clear about them, about not wanting to get involved so that no one would hurt themselves more than necessary and he respected her decision. But respecting a choice did not mean believing it. It did not mean dissipating feelings that, even if he never uttered them, were already there.

 

***

 

Regina raised her face gently and stared at the number 337 printed in white on a blue plaque. The simple brick walls brought a jovial and stripped air combined with the large panes. It was not the pub specimen she used to go to, but it did its purpose. The spacious driveway made it easy to flow at Acton Mews; the security grid housed small flower beds - bringing a feminine detail to the harshness of british architecture. It rained a little, and she realized that she was about to be late. Took two steps forward and entered the room, pulling the hood of her head and shaking her hair in the air to release them.

 

The place was full. Shelves filled with games filled one of the rounded corners of the place that reminded her of a circular labyrinth. She remembered Jake's coordinates and moved on, staring at the large lilac led light with the pub logo. She looked around, and noticed that there were hallways and people sitting around the tables and games. She was vehemently hoping this was just another weird choice of Ballard and not a joke - she was not in the mood for it. Regina stared at the lit chessboard next to a large window and noticed his presence.

 

Jake was still incredibly handsome. His green eyes were mixed with a golden tint, his hair straightening inward, his lips full and his beard thin. His personality had changed over time, matured - much of this also attributed to his disappointments about a certain miss white hat. He wore black jeans and a black suit, as well as military boots - a thin gray scarf that broke the look and brought sophistication. He smiled.

 

"Carmen Sandiego."

 

"Jake Ballard," she replied, smiling briefly. They stood staring at each other for a few minutes until he reached over the chess-mounted chessboard.

 

"A match?"

 

"Are not you going to get your ego hurt when you lose, Captain?" She fluttered.

 

"Do not make me laugh. You're a bad strategist."

 

She blinked at him and pretended to tell him a great secret. "Remember I'm a great thief."

 

He took from his pocket a small package, smaller than a standard envelope. He walked over to her, standing behind her, close enough for her to feel his breath on the back of her head. Regina did not move. She heard him unzip her backpack, and made some pressure, closing it again. "This pendrive has everything you asked for. Destroy it after use.”

 

With that, he moved away and returned to his place, across the board and face to face with her, making it possible to read her expressions. She just shook her head, agreeing with the information provided. "Do you want to start, Ballard?"

 

He gestured to the waiter and then raised his eyebrows at her in complete disregard. "You can start, I'll give you some head start. Defeat will be ugly enough."

 

"A confident man is twice inattentive, Ballard."

 

She started walking out the front. He smiled. Her pawns moved at its sides. Jake's game was definitely riskier than hers. He did not think twice about sacrificing a horse, a tower, or a bishop, as long as it gave him an advantage in locating. Regina watched each play, thinking, analyzing every detail and moving her pieces meticulously. He wanted to laugh a lot, but decided to leave her alone.

 

It did not take long for Regina to lose her towers and her horses, as well as half of her pawns. She listened to the opponent's uninterrupted laughter, but concentrated as she drank the beer that had come a few times back. Presumptuously, Jake put his queen at risk; his heart sped when he realized the mistake he had made. She was ready for the massacre, when she moved her queen in the other direction. He did not understand. Had she spared him on purpose? No, this was not Carmen Sandiego.

 

He threw the surviving bishop over her bishop, knocking him over. She laughed, and he knew he had lost. He looked at the tray and realized that the bishop had been put there on purpose. In that way, she had made him stand checkmate by himself.

 

"You're a devil," he commented, sipping his beer and staring in disbelief at the tray. Regina just laughed and pointed to the nearest couch. They sat there, and she took another sip of her beer. "Actually, I took a horse and two pawns from you and you did not even notice."

 

"You stole it from me."

 

"You're very slow." She countered and he stared at her in a way she understood what he meant.

 

"I didn’t mean like that, I mean chess."

 

Some of the boys came in through the hall laughing and making noise and this caught their attention for a moment. Shortly afterward, she propped her elbow on the top of the sofa and rested her head, visibly tired.

 

"Are the rumors true? About your mission?"

 

Her eyes widened at once and her lips parted in shock. "How do you all know that?"

 

"Do not call me 'all', Sandiego. I am president of the B613. I have to know everything." She found that remark incredibly sexy; a charge of so much power could do good to a man's virility. She smiled and he stared into her eyes for a while. A small flash of when they met came up. From what she remembered, he was a wonderful kisser.

 

"Why did you bring me here, Ballard? A bar full of games .... Is it some subliminal message? Because I'm not in the mood or patience for little games."

 

"Contrary to what you think I don’t want to fuck you. I mean, in other way, I would love to... " He laughed, his malice forming a smile that she returned before rolling her eyes. "But I will not fuck with your work. I'm just warning you it's risky. Pretty risky. And another thing, you will be delivering gigantic power and autonomy to the holder of that commodity."

 

She had not given herself the luxury of thinking about how important this was. So much money and influence in the wrong hands could be as bad as being killed in the operation. At no time she thought that such a thing would have a profound impact on society and also on the game of power and influence that governed the great institutions and governments. Lately, she was not thinking of anything, I mean, she was thinking about him. She had distracted herself by thinking of the person she kept rejecting, day after day.

 

"I would help, but I can not get involved. Besides, I have enough problems with that president and with Liv. "

 

She smiled. He really loved her. Jake Ballard loved someone with deep intensity and that was surprising. Only Olivia doesn't understand the dimension of this finding. Regina longed to exchange a few words with her.

 

"Do not worry," Regina assured him. "It's still a utopia. I have not been able to craft an invasion strategy that is safe. "

 

He bit his lip and stared at her. After a while, he let out the air in a single breath. "How didn't I think of that before? Such an idiot..."

 

Regina continued to stare at him like he was a lunatic. He smiled and approached her. "The society that created B613 had a fortress over the cities. There are several corridors linking old power plants, located in several countries of Europe. The initial plan of these tunnels was the preservation of humanity if there were any war and the risk of extinction. Others say that the purpose was to watch over humanity beneath their feet. No one knows."

 

"C'est formidable. But how does that help me?"

 

"There's a corridor that runs exactly under the National Safe of London. But there are no updated maps. It may be that there is only debris, it can fall apart while you are there. The ruins are very, very old. It's extremely risky and you may not go back, but still..."

 

"No one will see me coming in," she concluded. "I can get in and out. Or try to leave, in case. But... I have the topographic reading of the ground around the safe. There was nothing detected."

 

"Maybe someone did not want these paths to be detected by strangers. But I will emphasize: the abandoned tunnels in the European underworld are part of a very, very old legend. Much is said, but few have seen them. I can not give to you the exact location because I don’t know them. There is an old map written in Latin with Greek transcriptions. But it has undergone changes."

 

It made sense. They were platforms for espionage, not exactly something designed to be listed as historical patrimony. All she would need was to find a way to get into a place she had no idea where it was or where it started. But somehow she felt that she had made progress. An incalculable progress. Jake smiled at her; he seemed proud to have helped her in some way.

 

"I accept the map. Giving me this information will not be a problem to you?"

 

"You're not a problem for me, Carmen. What you steal from these people has no value to the Pentagon, the White House, or the UN. Not even for B613. No one is going to make a war because a ruby was stolen, or a ridiculous picture painted with the elbow of an imbecile. No one cares about Aztec artifacts, except the Aztec people."

 

"Understood."

 

She laid her head on the upholstered and took a deep breath. For some time, he just watched how tired she looked. Her hair, though shiny, was misaligned by the rain and he could not remember the last time he had seen her in jeans and hoodie - if he had ever seen her before.

 

"Can I ask you something?"

 

She smiled with her eyes closed. "Ouí"

 

"Why continue? Why take a chance on this mission that seems exciting, but which can also go incredibly wrong? They have nothing against you, Carmen.... You are a free woman. I wanted to understand why you stayed."

 

She opened her eyes quickly and stared at him in confusion. "What did you say?"

 

"That looks like..."

 

"No, not that. How am I a free woman? How they have nothing against me? I'm a wanted fugitive, Ballard. My luck is that the citizens of London are little caring about the fugitives from Interpol."

 

He shook his head, smiling. "It is obvious. You don’t know."

 

"I do not know what?" She asked irritably. Jake continued, an ironic laugh that gave no credence to her ignorance. He was unbearable, that was why their thing had not lasted. She remembered quickly. Regina punched him in the arm, causing him to moan and stop laughing.

 

"You must have heard about virtual death, right? Your history has been deleted. All the evidence, proofs, interrogations, everything the police or Interpol had against Carmen Sandiego was eradicated from information systems. They have nothing to hold you to. Like I said, you're free. As if - legally - you did not exist."

 

She felt a slight dizziness, wondering what that meant. She leaned her head back against the couch and took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding, and she thought it would come out through her trachea. That information could not be real. Her mouth went dry suddenly. "How did you figure that out, Jake?"

 

"I always do the police check when I'm going to deliver some work like that. It helps to keep my clients out of jail and I keep on winning. I asked Huck to open your files just to make sure there were no new crimes added and you were not even there." He noticed she was sweating. "Carmen, are you okay?”

 

"Yes," she whispered, her voice choked by the confused emotions that danced in her mind and heart at that moment.

 

"But there's something you need to know."

 

"What?"

 

"Well..." He began, embarrassed." Huck traced the trigger that erased all your files. It came from Interpol. It came from their squad in Westminster."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to my beta because she's so awesome.


	19. Rules

Jake had received a call shortly after he had told her about what had happened to her files. Gently, he walked her to the cashier and paid the bill. Outside, he kissed her cheek tenderly and walked away, leaving her on the sidewalk as he walked away into a dark alley.

 

Alone on the street, she felt free. She ran her fingers along the wet railing of the containment railing and headed down the river. Surrounded by an external façade decorated with simple bricks and large windows, she allowed some tears to come to her eyes. It rained a little, so that her tears mingled with the rain. The street was almost empty except for a few groups of young people following their ways. When she arrived at Dunston Rod, she passed the small square where there were millimetrically organized rental bikes and kept walking until she reached the safety railing around the river. She walked up the steps to the nearest landing and checked if there was no one around, then sat down. You are a free woman. She wanted to laugh, and before she could understand, she was laughing. Laughing with happiness for something she did not even know if it was true, but Jake had no reason to lie to her. She was already accustomed to being hunted by the police - it would not be new. But when he'd said those words to her, her whole world imploded inside her and only now she understood what all that meant. She could leave in peace.

 

Her eyes filled with tears again, but with happiness. Since she had adopted such a way of life, she could only see two ways out of it: by entering a prison or a wooden crate. She had never even considered that at some point she would be a free woman. That she would feel complete again, just as she was feeling at that moment. Even though she still had to deal with Raven, well, that was the least of her problems. She wanted to scream and wake people up. Her eyes stared at the overcast sky, but some stars dared to shine in the clouds. One particular star, which she had ridiculously decided to call the Big Dipper (though she had no knowledge of astronomy), shone strong and overbearing over the others. Regina always looked up at the sky and stared at that spare star as if it was her father looking up at her. It made her feel welcomed, as if he had never left her. "Thank you for always taking care of me, Dad," she whispered, smiling.

 

Then, Regina bowed her head and prayed. It seemed absurd for an international thief to do, but there she was, her eyes closed and her hands closed in prayer for God to protect her people and herself, to forgive all the bad decisions she had made during her years of life. She knew there was so much on her list, but defying the great logic of the skeptics, that little bridge as a superior being possessing perfect qualities above her understanding brought her hope. Hope that someone understood what she kept in her heart, beneath all those layers of disbelief and disengagement.

 

She lay there for a while, but she also felt as her jeans began to get wet, as did her dripping wet hair. Her first and only guess was Robin and there was completely undeniable. No one else at Interpol would want her freedom. No one else would risk their job - in fact, she could not believe he'd done it again. He had risked his freedom to secure hers. From the first moment, she had liked him, but at no moment she allowed herself to lower her guard. Her historic would not allow her, even if she wanted to trust. One foot forward and three feet back, that's how it always worked. But he had invaded her barriers a little and even though she haven’t opened enough for him, he still had managed to get more closer to her than other people in their five or seven years of socializing. Robin was so silly often looking like a teenager with his first college passion. He was definitely not good at hiding his fascination, he was not good at hiding jealousy, he was not good at hiding his curiosity. Or maybe he didn’t want to hide it. He felt adorably comfortable in her company, and she had never - even since the beginning - felt she was not welcome. It was as if he made a point of having her there.

 

Regina lay on the icy concrete and stared up at the sky for a few minutes, then closed her eyes. Took a deep breath, as if her lungs had long ago inhaled the night air. She felt like she was coming back to life after years of coma. She thought of the people in her life, thought of the people who had left her life, and felt grateful for where she was. Still with her eyes closed and feeling the rain caressing her face, she thought of her life. She had the perfect plan. She had no further arrest warrant against her. She was happy - and this concept tickled her tongue. It was a sensation she had forgotten.

 

She wanted to celebrate. She wanted to dance and drink bottles of wine all night long, celebrating. Smiling, she also knew who she wanted as company. It could happen that he did not do it - the impossible does not exist, it's only unexpected - but even so, it was him who she wanted it. He was tormenting her thoughts all the time, deconcentrating her, which prevented her from concentrating on her work. It was him that she had to keep away from her repeatedly even though she knew that magnetism was coming from her. She had never stopped wanting him. Once she was Carmen Sandiego, she would have to flee her whole life and it would not be fair to swallow his life into it, but that news brought out a new reality. A new perspective. A new and refined range of options. She would never admit it to him, but the thought of leaving him, the idea of not living with his presence around her made her feel completely abandoned. She loved his laugh. She loved the scent of his greasy burgers, even if she were cursing him for it. She loved his hair after he'd woken up, the charm of the completely messy blonde strands.

 

She pulled the cell phone out of her backpack and dialed some numbers.

 

"Hello, baby girl. I hope someone is dying to be calling me at this time."

 

Regina smiled. "Vic, I need your help."

 

***

 

Robin was lying on the padded sofa when the company rang. He imagined that Carmen had decided to come back earlier, so he did not mind wearing his shirt. Wearing only his sweatpants, and barefoot, he opened the door. But it was not Carmen's face that he found. Victoria Smurfit watched him from the bottom up with an amused smile on her face. "A lot makes sense now," she finished, laughing.

 

"What?" He asked. "How did you get on?"

 

"Cher ami, your doorman is not exactly the smartest in the world."

 

The baroness came into the apartment, and he only followed her gaze, closing the door behind him somewhat confused. How had that happened? What Victoria was doing there? He walked over to the sofa and grabbed a t-shirt, but the blonde walked over and pulled it out of his hand.

 

"She's not here," he mumbled, annoyed.

 

"I know, silly. She sent me here. I came to get you."

 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he stared at her. "For what?"

 

"Oh sweet Jesus! You two are the same! Regina asked me to pick you up to have dinner with her. So unless you intend to go like this.." She pointed her finger at his bare abdomen, amused. "I recommend a nice suit. It'll combine with the restaurant.” Robin's lips parted, ready to say something, and she reached her hand into the air. "And no, not-to-go isn’t an option. She is Carmen Sandiego. She won’t take no for an answer."

 

***

 

Regina studied the table. She had always heard of Rules, one of the most beautiful and renowned restaurants in Covent Garden, but she had never pretended to dine in one of its private rooms. The high price paid for every detail, each minute addendum that only triplicated the luxury and sophistication of a place like that. The furniture, chairs and table drawn in dark wood made her heart melt. The padded red leather only brought to the furniture a sensual, hot, seductive air. The walls - also dark due to the wood trim, had small frames that gave the room a vintage look. They were really capricious with details, she had to admit. The red carpet, decorated with gold lace designs, was a totally stunning luxury item, and even her could not argue with it.

 

On the table lined with a white cloth, there was the porcelain tableware and cutlery. Two bouquets of small roses decorated the white of the cloth; Candlesticks with candles kept the lighting low and rustic. It all conspired for a seductive mood - something she knew there was more than enough between them. A smile escaped her lips.

 

She approached the small round mirror on the wall parallel to the table and checked her appearance. Her eyes marked, bulging lashes, her mouth filled with a velvety lipstick and incredibly red. Her hair fell in beautiful cascades over her shoulders; Pietro had performed a miracle in a very short time. The red dress that tied around her neck, outlined the curves of her hip and made her back fully exposed. She was more than satisfied. Carmen Sandiego, I've missed you.

 

She heard a knock at the door. "Come in." She asked, and the door opened, revealing Robin. Victoria came in behind, and her eyes shone with shrewdness as she stared at the brunette. Robin was blindfolded - as she had asked, but he was incredibly handsome. He had chosen the blue suit and she wanted to kiss him for it.

 

"You look wonderfully hot," Victoria commented, and he grunted.

 

"That's not fair."

 

"Thank you, Vic. None of this would have been possible if you had not made all these contacts for me." Regina approached her and hugged her friend tightly. As they disengaged, Regina held her long enough to plant a tender kiss on the blonde's lips. "I would do anything for you, baby girl. Now I need to go back to my husband, he gets impatient when I leave.”

 

Seconds later, she left the room and left them alone. Regina stared at the man in front of her. Well dressed, his hair well-combed blond, the smell of his Hugo Boss perfume. The black stripe over his eyes remained untouched and she felt even more drawn to him when she realized the confidence he had placed in her. He had allowed himself to be blindfolded and taken to a place he had no idea where it was, only to meet her. She bit her bottom lip wishing him as she pulled her gloves gently.

 

"I can feel your breath on the back of my neck," he said, not moving.

 

She came and whispered, her lips touching his ear. "Maybe that's not a bad thing..."

 

Robin swallowed. What had happened to her? With all your delicate speech about not being healthy and fair they get involved and then separate? About how it would hurt both of them and all the emotional arguments that just made her admit she was not as indifferent as she wanted to show? His whole body shivered with her contact.

 

"Do you trust me, Robin?" Her voice was now to his left, indicating that she had circled behind him. He could smell candles and roses. He had no idea where they were, though by his calculations he was almost sure they were in Covent Garden or around.

 

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

 

She sighed and her hand slid down his, until she held him tight and led him to a chair that was facing away from the table. Before sitting down, she began to unbutton his suit, making him back a few inches. "What are you doing?"

 

"I need your handcuffs and your gun."

 

"Regina ..." he asked, his voice condescending. What was she doing? He desperately wanted to get the blindfold out of his eyes. He wanted to see how wonderful she was. He wanted to know where he was. But he knew that if he contradict her, she could simply take her purse and walk away and he would be the idiot again who ruined everything.

 

"I thought you trusted me." He could feel the censure on every syllable and hated himself for it.

 

"I trust. Just be careful."

 

"Please, Robin," she laughed. "I can open a bottle of champagne with a bullet. Do not underestimate me."

 

He felt the lightness in his suit after the items were withdrawn. He would not dare admit it, but the adrenaline running through his blood system made it even more intense. Robin felt when she put a hand on his abdomen and pushed him, forcing him to sit down. He felt the padded chair and relaxed. In one swift movement, he felt his wrists being pulled back and handcuffed around the chair. Before he could complain, he felt her hands on his shoulders, massaging him. He had no idea what her plans were, but he was more than happy to be a part of it. If she were to kill him, he would die happy. Her thumbs circled around his collarbones, her fingers making nice pressure. Suddenly, he felt her soft lips brushed the lobe of his ear again. "I need to ask you a question."

 

"Do it," he pleaded, trying to keep himself relaxed over the delicious torture. Not even in his wildest dreams he thought that night would end this way; It was a startling turn of events, especially since he'd said a foolishness to her. Anyway, she was playing with him and the best he could do was just consent to see how much it could extend.

 

She put her fingers in his hair and pulled back, laying his head on the top of the chair. She leaned over and brushed her lips to his, and holding on to not moan as she felt the warm breath on her neck. Just an inch and he could kiss her skin. Whispering against his lips, she asked. "I knew that someone erased all records, evidence, criminal records, everything that proves the existence of Carmen Sandiego. I want to know who did it."

 

She pulled away enough to see his Adam's apple go down and up. He cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his chair. "Regina..."

 

"I want names, Robin."

 

"It was me."

 

Her heart pounded, even though she had suspected it from the beginning. She let go of his hair, because she knew that position would hurt his neck if held for long. So, he had actually done that. He had sacrificed himself so that she could live safely. Regina circled around him and sat on his lap, listening to him whisper a curse that made her smile. The dress hampered access, so she sat across it, stroking his face and whispering back to his lips. "You don’t have access to that."

 

"I made a deal with Belle."

 

"Oh, the Gold's sweetheart."

 

Robin frowned, trying to understand how Carmen knew this but decided to leave it for an occasion when he was not fighting his own desires. Regina pushed his face aside and began to plant small kisses on his neck. "Keep talking, Robin," she ordered.

 

"She pretended all this time to Gold fall in love with her even more, so she would have full access to his accounts and passwords."

 

Regina bit the skin around his neck without forcing her teeth and he moaned. "She didn’t do it because of her good heart, did she? What was the price?" She kissed him again, teasing him as her hand slid over his abdomen. But he did not answer. After a while, she pulled away from him and looked at his face. He was red. Was he... blushing?

 

"Is what I'm thinking?"

 

"She thinks I'm attractive and..."

 

"Please, don’t continue, I get it." Suddenly, Regina understood. She understood what he had felt when she said she would find a friend. Le merde, she was jealous of him. A lot. For seconds, she wanted to shoot that red-haired girl in a pleated skirt. A bitter taste came into her mouth. But she regained her rationality. Robin had fucked her in exchange for Carmen's freedom. He had exchanged his body for her freedom. To judge that it was easy because he was a man was unfair and she would not dare do that. To give up his body in exchange for something was still degrading, regardless of the gender of the human being. And he had done it for her.

 

She couldn’t take it anymore. Regina dug her fingers into the back of his neck and pulled him into a fiery kiss. She stuck her tongue on his mouth, touching his and searching for space; she closed her lips and caught his, sucking it gently. Her lips closed around his lower lip, giving a slight pull before kissing him hard again. She could feel his arms tense pulling the cuff, but it was not time for that yet. When their lips parted, she knelt on the floor between his legs. Robin swallowed the air as he felt her fingers untie his belt and pull it out of his pants; in a second she had unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper off. She slid one hand over his already stiff cock and the other sticking her nails on his thigh. "Regina..." he moaned, feeling her handle his organ delicately, massaging it.

 

"You deserve a reward for the sacrifice you made. But if you don’t want to, just say it... " She provoked. However, she just got the silence - making a smile come up on her lips. A wicked smile. "I imagined that would be your answer."

 

She pulled only a little of his boxer and pants, barely making room for her to move. She did not mean to undress him, she had other plans for him. So she pulled his underwear out of the way and felt him shiver as he felt her hand on his cock. "Ohhhh..." he moaned, and she felt almost sad that he could not see her yet. But she knew that loss of sight would sharpen his other senses, and that made a dark pleasure run down her spine. Carefully, she reached up and kissed his extension, delicate kisses, just running his length. She held him with one hand as she scratched his thigh with the other, wanting to provide him the same amount of pain and pleasure. Her lips covered one of his balls, sucking it and playing with it in her mouth, her tongue caressing it as he writhed even more, drawing his feet to the floor and pushing the chair. Soon she let go and sucked on the other, sucking it, playing with it inside her mouth, sliding her tongue around them. She loved the sounds he made; like a lonely, voiceless howl. As if he were cornered. Somehow being in control of him was something exceptionally exciting.

 

"Regina, fuck." She smiled and continued with her silent torture, which was occasionally broken by her own sounds that looked more like a hoarse purr of a feline. Her hand rose and fell, caressing him as she played with her tongue around his balls, sucking and licking. She released it and then slid her tongue from the base to the glans where she covered with her mouth. She continued to lick its length slowly, rounding the small veins, kissing it, popping her lips into his groin, stroking the balls with her fingers. She sucked only the glans again, sliding her tongue through the orifice of the glans and making him sigh under his breath.

 

Regina licked it once more before lowering her lips over it, swallowing it all over. She closed her lips around him and slid back, pulling him away. She could feel his breathing, accelerated and with no regular interval. She kept pressing her lips as she came down and up, the force of her lips increasing his arousal even more. She slid it back to her mouth again, then moved away with pressed lips, creating a kind of suction that made him jump from the chair. "Holy shit" He cursed, and she loved the sensation of seeing him like that, submissive to her, vulnerable to her touch. His half-open mouth felt dry and she could imagine that even beneath that strip, his eyes were closed. She took him by the base and began to suck him hard, adding speed; she pressed her tongue to his extension, pressing it as she slid her thumb through the scrotal sac. Robin was almost giving in to her lips as she drew him away from her lips, sucking on one of his balls again as she slid her thumb over the glans that were already smeared with ejaculatory liquid. She caught one of his balls between her lips and let out a snap. She smiled when he frowned, and bit his lip. "I can’t hold it for long," he confessed, and she thought it was adorable.

 

She slid her tongue back over his length, circling the glans with her tongue and down; tortured him for some time until she sucked him back. Her head came down and up, lips closed over him, sucking and pushing, her tongue pressing into her movement. Regina closed her lips more tightly around his cock, squeezing it and that was enough for him to have a violent spasm, exploding inside her mouth. His whole body shuddered and she wiped her lips away. He had thrown himself against the chair, his whole body hunched and panting. She could see the sweat on his neck, the nerves on his leg fluttering inside his pants.

 

"You think that reward was worth it?" She teased, smiling.

 

"I could not wish for anything better."

 

Regina knelt down again and helped him put his boxer and pants back on. He was surprised when she buttoned his pants again and zipped up. It was not possible that it would be just that. I mean, she'd just knocked him out, but he would not let her go home empty-handed. Robin wanted her, more than he could bear. He felt his legs still incredibly soft. She walked over to his back and opened the handcuffs. When she returned to his front, he found some source of strength and rose, holding her with possession, fitting his mouth to hers; his hands went down quickly to the brunette's hip pressing her against his body. Regina moaned on his lips, and they kissed again hungrier still, her hands beneath his suit, scratching his back.

 

As soon as the kiss was broken, she put her hand on his chest and pushed him a hand. "We'll have time for that. Right now, I intend to give you something you've always wanted." She leaned over and brushed her lips against his, but did not kiss him. Regina waited for some time, just watching him become corrupted in his anxiety. Carefully, she pulled the blindfold out of his eyes and waited for him to open them. "Forget who we are. In this room there are no more Robin and Regina. Give me your best, McLocksller." He stared at her and she smiled brightly, maliciously. "Because I'm giving you a night with Carmen Sandiego." She blinked at him and moved back to her place at the table, her hip sliding in a provocative roll, her bare back to the top of her hip. She turned to him with one eyebrow arched.

 

"Sit down. I'll ask them to bring the dinner. "


	20. Tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY I'M REALLY LATE  
> I was really lazy these past months but this fic is really alive so cheers  
> Any, thanks for pushing me to it  
> Miles, thanks for being, u know, just u  
> the biggest thank you to my beta because she is the best person ever

Robin watched silently as well dressed clerks entered through the door, bringing them the dishes and the bottles. They went in and out, their face was so serious, without looking up to see who they served. Perhaps they had been well paid to maintain such discretion. Regina was talking to one of them, possibly the maitre about the wine she wanted. Must be something rare, for her detailed description of the year and crop. She was truly wonderful - her velvety skin highlighted by the nakedness of her shoulder; the red lipstick that still marked her lips perfectly even after what had happened between them.

 

She had jumped the appetizers and he wanted to thank her for it. As soon as the table was set, they retreated as quietly as they had entered. Silence settled between them; Regina looked up and stared at the blonde on the other side of the table. "What’s wrong?"

 

"Nothing, I... I've never come here before. I'm just admiring.”

 

She smiled discreetly. "Do you want an introduction?"

 

"It would come in handy."

 

Her smile widened. "This dish in front of you is the Tranche of Turbot. You should know, Turbot, that relatively small fish they fish in the New Zealand sea.” He nodded, yes. "It's a piece of this fish with purple broccoli, lemon, capers and artichoke sauce. They say it's great, but I've never tasted it.”

 

He stared, studying her. She had no idea how sexy was the knowledge she possessed on such diverse subjects. Robin had no doubt that she herself could cook that dish with versatility.

 

"Any questions, McLocksller?"

 

"Which wine did you ask for?"

 

“I thought about asking for Dom Perignon but opted for a Bollinger La Grande Année. The second crop of 2005 is the best that exists. It was a time of many rains.”

 

He couldn’t take his eyes of her. Was it really possible for a woman to be so attractive and dangerous at the same time? She stared at him curiously, apparently amused by his facial expression. He smiled. "Do you need to know all these things because of your work or are you naturally sophisticated like that?"

 

"My job is to get things out of difficult places, McLocksller. Anything beyond that is my choice. I like to know things. Information is one thing that never exceeds the limit. They may take from you anything that is external to you, but the knowledge gained is tied to you until the end of your life.”

 

“It makes sense."

 

He turned to his plate and took the fork with his right hand, pinching a piece of the fish. Really, that was phenomenal. Tastes mingled in his mouth, creating a formidable sense of satisfaction. She smiled, agreeing with him. That dish should not be considered simply food, but a culinary masterpiece. He would even give a Michelin star to them.

 

He took a sip of the wine in his glass. He fell in love with the combination and admired the good culinary taste of the woman who accompanied him. She was full of surprises - but he would be lying if he said he did not love each one of them. With each new information about her, more he wanted to delve deeply into everything that concerned to her. His eyes captured the exact moment she took the glass to her lips and took a long sip. Red lips moist with wine; a small drop remained between them until Regina ran her tongue over them, wiping it - and making Robin feel a contraction in his abdomen.

 

“You still didn’t tell me why you did that" - she said, without looking at him. Regina put another piece of fish in her mouth and looked at him again.

 

He bit his lip. He couldn’t say some dumb excuse, she would not accept it. So he took another sip of the wine and lined his body before answering. "I wanted you to be free. To not have to hide this face while you are walking on the street, so after you finished this job, you could be the person you wanted, without worrying about your own safety. It's not like you were the one who was designing everything, you were working for someone and following orders. That does not make you an evil mentor."

 

"That's all?”

 

He stared at her. No, it was not just that. I'm in love with you, you idiot. Robin swallowed his thought with another sip of wine, drying the bottom of the glass. "Do you think I'm hiding something?"

 

“No.” But her voice showed no conviction. She knew it was not just that, but she wouldn’t dare put it on the table. She knew it had to do with the episode of jealousy, which had to do with how affectionately he treated her. It had to do with his concern for her safety. It had to do with feelings, and if they named it, it would be won over by their heart. She hated herself for being so stubborn. She hated herself for raising her emotional defenses so high that she could not see what was around her. She hated herself when she realized that all this time, Victoria was right. She was afraid to love - and so she fled.

 

“It didn’t sound convincing," he insisted.

 

"I just can not understand why someone would put himself at risk so many times to keep me safe."

 

"Maybe some things are not meant to be understood. Maybe they just have to be felt.”

 

They exchanged a meaningful look. The density of the room had dropped again, making them look at each other shamelessly. Regina picked up her cell phone and dialed something, and soon a melody filled the place, catching his attention. Robin smiled. He knew the melody of Assassin's Tango more than the anthem of his country. An insinuating choice on her part. He did not wait for invitation, rising from his chair and walking toward her.

 

Regina bit her lip as she saw his hand reaching out to her. It was a delicate game, and she was playing it with full potential. She put her hand over his and he pulled her, causing her body to clash with his. His lips were relatively close, one of his hands holding hers high while the other was at the base of her back, directly against her creamy skin. She sighed, and he took a step, taking her with him and starting the dance. "What are you doing, Carmen?"

 

He kept her in the pose, walking with her around the room and thanked her mentally for it being big enough. Her legs danced between his, never clashing. She slid her hand enough to caress the back of his neck, and quickly returned her hand to the natural position on his arm. She was not smiling, she seemed too focused on him to think of anything else. Her eyes were glazed on him, though her neck was taut, maintaining a pose of superiority worthy of the tango.

 

Robin took a deep breath, guided her and pulled her by the waist to him, holding her there and breaking the pass. "I asked you a question" he said, his lips almost touching her lips. She smiled, pulling him away. "I listened." she replied, spinning like a ballerina and leaning her body against his. She could feel the heavy erection in her ass while her body relaxed against Robin's, and he placed both hands on her waist, making her dance against him. Regina came down, yielding on her knees, then climbed up, slowly rubbing her hip into his cock.

 

She pulled away then, turning around slowly and hugging him from behind. Carefully, she unbuttoned the buttons of his suit, pulling it from his shoulders, then throwing it into her chair. Robin turned quickly and held her, walking fast with her until he hit her hard against the wooden wall. She moaned, following in the footsteps of the front and shifting her arm from his, to his tie, pulling it hard and making him gasp for breath. "Careful, McLocksller..." she whispered, brushing her hot lips against his ear. "Two can play this game."

 

He tore off his tie, tossing it to the floor and that makes her smile. Robin guided her as they walked side by side, legs following each other's movements in a mirrored step. He whirled her around and picked her up, bringing her back to his tight hold. "It's all a game for you, isn’t it?" He asked, intoxicating her with his sexy voice, his sparse beard on the delicate neck and sending shivers to her core. She closed her eyes, enjoying the exciting sensation. She didn’t answer, but kept the smile on her lips. She was driving him crazy. She was provoking him, knowing exactly where to press. Robin felt like a puppet in the hands of a professional.

 

Regina, on the other hand, was surprised. She imagined that Robin would have many talents, but not that he would dance tango as a born argentine. He seemed to make her fly, so much his ability to guide her. She laid her back against his chest again and slid her leg to the side; heat took hold of her as he held tight in her exposed thigh giving her support to continue the pass. Regina turned and they stepped back, eyes to eyes. "You are the one who created this game, McLocksller." She turned around and he took her hand. "But I confess that if I did not like it, I would not be in your arms." Regina whirled twice and fell on his arms, showing off her desirable and delicate neck where he longed ardently to rest his lips and suck long.

 

Walking through the room he pulled her so that she stretched out one leg with his, and the other came slowly. "You watch me” she teased. A slow step allowed her to put her leg out of his and fit his thigh. "You haunt me" he pulled her, guiding her, toying with the speeding passes. She whirled over his touch and allowed herself to fall backward, being held by his hand that firmly continued to hold her until she lifted and stepped forward; two strong hands on her waist pulled her back, sticking their bodies together. She slipped a hand over the back of his neck. "You want me" she continued, instigating him with words.

 

She turned away from him and placed her hand on his chest. She took a few steps, still in the rhythm, keeping him away from herself. "And for what purpose, McLocksller?" She smiled, withdrawing her hand and standing in front of him, placing both hands on his arms, as she slid one of her thighs up to his waist. "I'm in your hands. What are you going to do?”

 

Robin leaned her over, then pulled her hard. Regina could not stand it any longer. She wanted him. The tango, and Robin's hands on her body, whirling around, touching her skin - that wasn't softening at all. She slipped a hand over the back of his neck and grabbed him, crashing his lips with her own. He opened his lips immediately, letting her tongue invade his mouth. She put her other hand on the back of his neck, giving in. Robin pushed her to the wall, tapping her to the surface, holding her wrists against the wall. Regina kept one of her legs around his waist, the heel tucked into the fabric of his pants. She moaned loudly as he dropped her mouth and slid his wet lips down a winding path up her neck, where he sucked with uncontrollable desire - his lips devouring her skin. She felt his hands on her hip, pulling up her dress, some what desperate for her and that was so fucking amusing. He was still pressing her against the wall when she felt his fingers finding a path to the back of her neck, pulling her hair there and keeping her submissive as he came back to suck on her neck, sliding his teeth and taking small bites that was driving her nuts.

 

Regina regained consciousness and proceeded to unbutton his shirt without even seeing what she was doing. He helped her, freeing himself from the cloth and kissing her again with even greater hunger. Her nails slid down his abdomen, down his arms, leaving a trail of marks. She moaned into his mouth, intercalating with the warmth of her tongue invading his mouth; Robin grunted at her when he realized that there were no panties to be taken, just skin and more skin. His fingers slid through her sex, moist and lubricated; he just slid his thumb between its lips and she moaned into his mouth, squeezing herself even more against him. "Dios mio."

 

“I’d rather be called McLocksller tonight.” He laughed, holding her with a kiss as he slid two fingers inside her; began with a torturously slow rhythm, just in and out, remembering the sensation of being inside her, the exciting murmurs, the weeping moans. It did not take more than a few seconds for her to begin moving her hip toward his fingers, seeking a greater friction. He tugged at the back of her neck, whispering against her neck. "Is that what you wanted so badly, Carmen? It looks like you were missing the feeling of having me inside you, fucking you shamelessly, feeling your tinny walls pulsing so dearly…” He picked up the pace, and she stuffed her nails into the lower part of his hip.

 

Robin increased the strength of his movements by adding one more finger. "Shit" she groaned as he penetrated her vigorously, keeping the pace and intensity of the thrusts. He returned to kissing her neck, licking her neck, biting and then using her tongue to calm the bite. She bit her lower lip and he gently slid his thumb there, stopping her. "Don’t hold your moans. I want them too.”

 

“Stop” her whisper came out so low, almost like a shadow, and he was trying to understand what she had said when she exploded in his hand, her whole body shuddering and her legs twitching in spasms. Her breath tapered and she gripped his jaw, pulling him into a tongue-filled kiss; Robin slid his fingers out of her, and brought them to his own mouth. Regina caught them before and snatched at them, licking them. He stared at her, gasping loudly. She slid her tongue over the length of them, playing with them in her mouth and reliving recent memories of how much damage she could do with that tongue. "Shit” he groaned, feeling extremely tight inside his pants.

 

She pushed him until he came close to one of the chairs. Regina pulled away from him just enough to pull the chair away from the table; signaled him to sit down. Robin sat down, not knowing what she was planning. She walked over to her chair and came back with his gun and handcuffs. "No” he demanded, his eyes filled with disappointment. "Do not deprive me of touching you. Please.”

 

“I'm only going to partially deprive you. Trust me, Officer.” He followed her with his eyes until she disappeared from his sight. When he felt one of his wrists being handcuffed and carried back, he thought she would not keep her word. But she reappeared, and he noticed that one of his wrists was free. Regina slid her hands down his thighs, fingernails tickling. She leaned over his legs, her lips brushing his lips. "Are you ready for what's to come, McLocksller?"

 

“More than ever."

 

"We'll see." She laughed, delighted.

 

"Regina... What if somebody come in?"

 

"They are only allowed to come in when called. And unless they call themselves God, Robin or any other title that crosses my lips between my moans... Well, they'll stay on the outside for some time."

 

With a delicate movement, she sat on his lap putting one leg on each side of the chair. She rolled slowly into his lap, knowing she was sitting exactly over his erection. She ran her fingers over his chest, clawing at him. His mouth caught hers, and she kissed him hard, sucking his tongue and kissing him with no trace of shame. His free hand tightened on her hips, pulling and pushing her, creating friction between her and his tight pants. Regina used her free hand and released the clasp of the dress, letting the front fall on her lap; her bare breasts matched his eyes. Robin only admired them, his mouth half-open. "Do not expect a written invitation, McLocksller.”

 

She closed her eyes when she felt his tongue slipping around one of her nipples. He was wonderful at it. His teeth brushed her flesh as his tongue twisted around, then Robin closed his lips around and sucked hard. His hot, wet tongue had the right touch, making the center of her legs get wet at every second. Robin sucked on her nipples as if his life was depended on it and that drives her crazy. She moaned, her eyes involuntarily closing and her head hanging back as he cupped her nipple with his teeth. Pain, that was what made her more crazy. The right amount of pain mixed with pleasure could overcome any hallucinogen or chemical drug in the world. She pulled his hair back and kissed him, her mouth sucking at his, wanting to take him, wanting to get hold of him from the inside out. He caught her by the nape of her neck, holding her in that hot, overwhelming kiss, as hot as their bodies at that moment.

 

As they parted away, she put the gun in his hand and moved herself away from him a little, sitting almost over his knees. For a moment, he thought she had gone really mad - what was he supposed to do with that? But she leaned toward him and slid the tip of her tongue over the metal of the barrel, causing a vein in his penis to leap. He aimed the gun at her lips and Regina smiled wickedly, kissing the metal object, small, subtle kisses; then she slid her tongue over it, not taking her eyes from his eyes. As if reading the obscene thoughts in the agent's mind, she reached for the gun, closing her lips around the barrel of it, and sucked it slowly. "Holy shit, Regina" grunted the man, already out of control of what was going on in his boxer. She continued to lick, sucking on that object and amused by the influence that such a simple gesture had on him.

 

Carefully, she shifted to a little closer and guided the gun to her neck. He continued what she had proposed, sliding the icy metal against her soft, warm skin. The way she wriggled in his lap told him how much she was enjoying; Robin slid the gun between her breasts and she sighed, grunting like a cat. He kept sliding, brushing, feeling her soften over him; Regina's eyes flew open, and her fingers quickly opened the zipper and buttons of his trousers. Robin dropped the gun to the floor, surrendered. With a precise movement, she pulled his cock out, sitting down on him, allowing him to slide between her wet lips. Robin caught her by the hair, and pulled her to him, whispering in her ear. "Stop torturing me, Carmen."

 

"I'm torturing both of us, my love."

 

He kissed her, making her sigh hard as he took her. Carefully she got up and guided him inside. "Oh mon dieu" she groaned, feeling him fill every inch of her as she slowly descended over him. She stroked his face before kissing him, beginning to move slowly over him, dictating a slow rhythm. His low moans escaped from one thrust to another; she bit his earlobe and began to move with more speed. "Release me” he pleaded, but she ignored him. Climbing up and down, rolling her hips over his lap. Robin was about to lose control; he felt the handcuff cutting the skin around his wrist, but he could not help it. Carmen Sandiego was sitting on his lap, fucking him so devilishly good. With a quick movement, he set the index finger on one of the safety latches and hit the handcuff, getting rid of it.

 

Robin grabbed her by her waist and took them both to the floor. Her back hit the floor, but she smiled. "It's about time, I thought I'd have to do it all by myself." He hated himself for being such an idiot. It was obvious that she knew he could have opened that handcuff at any moment, she was just teasing him to see how long he would hold out. He opened her legs and slid into her, hurriedly invading her as she pulled him into another kiss. "Make me cum" she whispered, moving her belly up. Robin stormed quickly, his hips bending over her to reach an even deeper spot. His mouth was on her neck, and she tore him with her fingernails, his back already marked by her fury. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, memorizing the sensation of thrusting into her. The way her flesh got him, the way their bodies fit perfectly. Each time his balls crashed against her because of the force of the onslaught. She was his doom, a demon sent to keep him trapped by the insanity of the carnal desires and he adored every second of it.

 

“Sí papi" she moaned, trying to move, but Robin clasped both hands in the bones of her femur and maintained the stiffness of the thrusts, threading deeper and deeper, reaching points that made her eyes turn with pleasure. She slid one leg over his and slid it against his hip, one hand reaching into his hair and pulling hard. "oh foutre" He moaned again, his chest dilating with a quickened breath.

 

She felt his movements decreased, slowly fading, and when Robin truly stopped, she pulled him through his hair, her eyes furious and atrocious. "I don’t remember telling you to stop."

 

"I want you at the table."

 

"What's your thing with tables?"

 

But she didn't got any answers. Robin slide off of her gently, making her shiver and missing his body over hers. Regina got up too, and got rid of her beautiful dress. She heard him toss half the crockery on the floor and turned so that he lifted her and sat her there. Robin snuggled between her legs and kissed her again, tightening her hips and pulling them against him. Regina let her head fall back and he traced her beautiful neck, biting slightly, racing his teeth over the tempting creamy skin. His tongue traced ways from top to bottom, sucking it with passion. Returning to reality, she placed her palms on the firm, rigid chest, pushing him away; she came down off the desk with a sly smile on her lips. He watched as she turned around, presenting him with a privileged view of her killer ass and he quickly pressed her against the table, rubbing his rigid cock against her buttocks. "You know what to do now." she teased, bending a little more but not too much.

 

He slid his arms around her waist and held her breasts, squeezing them, massaging them as he kissed her neck with a hunger he didn't remember feeling in his own life. Regina felt the exact moment when his thick cock slide so easily into her and frown, pushing him away again. Her look of reproach surprised him. "If I wanted this, I would not have turned to my back. Use your imagination.” She laughed out loud as he pushed her against the table again, almost ungently. That woman was - definitely - his perdition. He spat in his hand and lubricated his cock even more; she tilted her buttocks back, giving him access. Robin slid his cock over her entrance, smearing it with the sweet juices coming out of her, teasing, touching the sensitive area with the head of his cock. "Robin, please." She asked, and he gently pushed his glans into her ass hole and felt her pushing back; her eyes got wet, he was so thick, but she wanted him, wanted to give themselves  a whole new experience, to be fucked by him in a way that she couldn't compare to any other man she had; but, anyway, he stopped her. "Slow down, baby." He slid his fingertips over her back, stroking and adoring; after a while he pushed into her a little more of his length, feeling her fingernails clawing at the table, her head dropped forward, her breath panting. “I know that you want me deep inside you, and trust me, I'm doing my best to keep my self control here” She smiled and he continued, his voice so risky and affected by the heat. He was definitely turned on. “But I can't risk to hurt you. Plus, if it doesn't hurt, you'll let me do it again. Hopefully.”

 

“Perhaps.” Her voice came soft and calm. He could felt her finally relaxed, so he took a step forward and penetrated her completely. "Holy fucking shit!" She cried, and he began to move slowly; she grabbed the cloth from the tablecloth between her fingers and lay down against the table, giving him more space for movement. Feeling him in her ass was something completely unheard of and she did not know why she'd never thought of it before. Her eyes seemed to want to get out of her orbits and her body would explode in waves and waves of an unbelievable orgasm. She bit into the skin of her arm as she felt him increasing the speed of his thrusts.

 

Robin could not stand it any longer. He was proud of being an exemplary lover, never releasing himself before his partners, but Regina - Regina was something out of the ordinary. She had an exacerbated power over every part of him, and his libido was one of the most affected. Each thrust added even more pressure against his cock, and he began to sweat cold. She started to wiggle her hips, increasing the sensation inside her. Robin leaned over and pulled her back from the table, her hair in her hand like a ponytail as he continued to thrust ruthlessly. “Más fuerte”

 

Struggling against his own limits, he continued, stronger, holding her so tightly that the heavy table below them moved; Regina tore the towel that she was holding so tightly. Robin continued, but not relentlessly - his leg had already showed signs of weariness - but he kept moving until he felt she was about to explode in his arms, then ran his fingers into her and slide two fingers there, rubbing her clit with his thumb, giving her a strong and toe-curling orgasm, a sprout like waves that embraced her and made her give in to the table with strong spasms. She moaned loud and deep, her legs sagging, and Robin held her in place with the weight of his own body. The contractions caused by it were strong enough for her inner muscles to tighten Robin to his climax, making him fall over her equally tired. His moans come out so primitive and desperate that thrilled her, sending chills over her whole spine.

 

They stood in that position for a few minutes. When he felt a little more strength in his lower limbs, he stood up and slide off her, sitting her in front of him, positioned himself between her legs. Regina caressed his face delicately as she approached him. She hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him closer and took him for a kiss. A different kiss than the kisses they were accustomed to share. A kiss free from hunger, despair, horniness. A gentle, warm kiss. A kiss with which she had assumed herself that yes, she was in love with Robin McLocksller.

 

As soon as the kisses had ceased, she pressed her forehead against his. "I don’t think they'll let us have dinner here ever again.” she heard him say, worried.

 

"They knew exactly what could happen here and are being paid for it." She replied, feeling tired. "Let me rest a little on you before we go home... Unless you want to continue dining."

 

“The only hunger I'm feeling can be satiated at home" Having said that, she laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him, bodies stuck together again. Robin caressed her hair, staring down at the fallen Toubot.

 

***

 

Regina was laughing when they entered the apartment. She climbed down from his lap, and took off the bottle of wine she'd bought by the restaurant's from his hand. She opened without ceremony, leading the bottleneck to her lips and swallowing the liquid like fresh water. Robin just stared, a smile on his lips.

 

She walked into the living room and drank some more, entering the room and opening the dress again, causing it to fall to her feet; she was one more time gloriously naked in front of him. "What are you doing, Regina?"

 

"I'm not done with you, Robin. Take me now.”

 

He didn’t think twice.


	21. Kairos

Regina woke with his warmth underneath her. She opened her eyes slowly, creating a peripheral sensation of space; lying on his chest, her right thigh over his, her arm extended over his waist. His heart was beating slowly, serene. Carefully, she jerked off, lying on his triceps and staring into his sleeping face. The handsome face with firm features. The face that accompanied her all the time, in her most random thoughts. She slid one of her fingers over the center of his chest, making a path with the tip of her nail, and he mumbled something, but he remained asleep and she laughed.

 

Carefully, she moved away from him. She got up from the bed, stretching her body fully aware of her nakedness. Raised her arms, feeling her muscles expanding in opposite directions. She took his shirt, and put it on, pulling the collar toward the nostrils and sighed with the aroma of his perfume. The scent that brought vivid memories to her mind; which reminded her of how he held her against his body, his warm skin scraping against hers, the stiff muscles touched roughly by his nails.

 

Then she walked to the kitchen on the tip of her foot. Switched on the coffeemaker, and walked to the table in the left corner of the room. She stared at the floor plan of the bank, analyzing the details, the corridors, each location; picked up the plotted plant of the tunnels from inside her bag, and set it down below, keeping them parallel. She searched the similarities - there was a way or two that crossed each other.

 

Regina returned to the coffeemaker and filled one of the mugs with the dark liquid. Were the ruins really a good idea? This question haunted her. Once the pendrive had been deleted, that copy plotted was what she had left. She returned to the table, and with a pen marked the meeting points with a red x. She looked at the front entrances. She had already gone through everything. It was impossible to dig the steel sheets. But if she could get into that room before the safe .... She schematized the infrared alarms on the notebook screen and calculated the distance of the ventilation. Impossible to jump from there, another possibility eliminated.

 

She took a deep breath before allowing another long sip of coffee to run down her windpipe. She understood something of latin, not exactly Natasha Romanoff, but she had some knowledge. She noted a symbol in the left corner of the map of the ruins. She stepped closer, gazing cautiously at the two maps. A smile flickered on her lips, and she drank the coffee, laughing. The sky is the limit, said the proverb. In her case, the ceiling. The only part of the safe that is not steel. She would not even need to do it during the day. She could spend the night over it, invade quietly, and go through the corridors of the ruins without worrying about being followed. A simple, clean, calm assault.

 

As if getting rid of a blackout, her eyes lit up like fireflies shining in the night. She bit her lip. Everything she needed was right there. Her plan was almost complete. She took the maps, and tucked them in her backpack. She just needed to check the ruins herself and walk the precise path she would take. Even without hurry or without the pressure of the police, chase it would be incredible easy to get lost in those various ways. She finished the coffee and took the cup to the sink.

 

She went back to the bedroom. Robin was still asleep, overcome by fatigue. Regina smiled, and took off her shirt. Threw the piece on the floor and walked toward the bathroom. Turning the faucet on and letting the hot water slide over her body, bringing comfort and relaxation. She closed her eyes, her hands resting against the wall. There were things to be completed, she knew it. She could not complete this work yet. Her last job. She knew what that meant. Get rid of the personna who has accompanied her for years; get rid of a personality built at great cost and care. It would take her back to her life, the one she had buried in the past and had been formidable to keep out of reach of her memories. For her unresolved issues. She could not leave as if there were nothing hanging on her heels, as if her responsibilities had been magically removed. She knew better.

 

The water slid gently, caressing her skin as she tried not to mumble her thoughts. She slid the soap down her body carefully, caressing, loving herself without any sexual connotations, just the pleasure of taking care of her body. The lawful pleasure of loving your own formation. She washed her hair with the same delicacy and left the bath a little more relaxed. Curled up in the towel, she crossed the room and picked up her clothes. Dressed them quietly even though she suspected Robin would not wake up anytime soon. Got ready quickly, and in less than ten minutes, she was out in the street.

 

She walked down the streets unconcerned, a little frightened by her new possibility of life. Walking on the streets with nothing covering her face. If the injunction of her documents was false, the police would come after her quickly and she would flee - but she had to try. But nothing happened. She was just another woman in the crowd and she wanted to cry with joy. Down the stairs to the Westminster tube station. She approached the large panel and looked for the line she had to pick up. Jubilee.

 

She followed the directions hanging on the yellow plates and continued her way to the waiting line. It only took seconds for the vehicle to enter the platform, and she slipped among the several men in their suits, wandering into it. She stared at the surrounding faces in their routine safety measure, then stared at the station flag. Three minutes and forty-five seconds later she arrived at Waterloo Station. Her eyes were captured covered by the drawing that the metal marked. Symmetry cold and calculated, but that brought an air of beauty to a cold and ephemeral place. She stared at the four-faced clock and analyzed her map, entering her left. There was a door hidden in the back corner of the S1 iron staircase, signposted as a fire escape.

 

She came in, and got off, stopping only when she reached the third landing. According to the map, it was there. She stared at the wall looking for something, but found only a fire alarm. She followed her trained instinct, and taking the penknife out of her boot, unscrewing it. There was a switch underneath it, and her eyes took a totally different glimpse. When tripped, the switch opened another door - a door literally embedded in the wall - imperceptible if it had not been opened. Her heart raced, but she remained calm.

 

She walked through the door, closing it behind her. Turned on the flashlight and her eyes quickly adjusted to the new beam of light. She continued walking down the now narrow corridors. The air thinned and dense, as if compressed for years in that space. The walls, full of writings in Latin; the dark floor that creaked with every step; doors and more doors, recreating the feel of the Minotaur's labyrinth. Regina looked at her map and found the door to go. Opening it, she stared only into the darkness on the other side. She could hear everything above her, the steps, the wheels of their bags, the heels, conversations, announcements.

 

The world could be heard all over. She wondered what the men who had built that place wanted to do with their discoveries. She questioned the value of each one's thoughts. What would we give to hear what the other thinks, what the other wants? These men had access to everything. To everyday conversations, and whispered secrets in links full of guilt and remorse. The evil plans and the romantic conversations. They watched the footsteps of humanity, and what did they accomplish with that? Possibly nothing, or those tunics would not look like the catacombs of Paris. As if mankind knew how to guide their own pace .... Possibly they must have realized how inept is the voice of humanity in its totality and they gave up listening.

 

She closed her eyes and bit her lips, creating even more courage to follow her journey. This part of her life needed to be finalized, completed and left in the past, but for that, she had to go until the end. She entered that door with one certainty. Whatever the outcome of that journey, she would have what she was looking for.

 

Somehow, she would go home.

 

***

 

Later that day, Belle tapped her knuckles on the door of McLocksller's office.

 

"Come in." She stepped into his field of vision wearing a yellow tube dress, her hair caught in a bun and her glasses over her eyes. The high heels had favored her and she looked even more pretty and confident. "You look beautiful today." He praised her and she blushed.

 

"Thank you." For a few seconds, she just stared at him and he returned her gaze. She was holding a brown envelope, and she looked uncertain. Robin smiled.

 

"Is everything alright, Miss French?"

 

"Yes, I..." She shrugged her shoulders in surrender. "Gold asked me to bring this to you. I think it's some provocation from him, but anyway... "

 

"Leave it to me. I know how to take care of myself." He held out his hand and Belle put the package there. She just stared at him again before waving sweetly and walking out the door. The blonde sighed. She did not look like the same woman who undressed him with a hallucinatory rush, but he was still trying to deal with that memory.

 

He turned to his table and sat down. He reached for his scotch glass and stared at the envelope without opening it. Anything that Gold put in his way would only have the purpose of disrupting it. It was some pinching, some teasing to push him in the direction he wanted. He took a long sip of his drink.

 

He pulled the seal from the envelope and opened it, carefully removing its contents. His eyes quickly captured her face in the first photo. Regina. But just like an avid eagle, he realized she was not alone. He noticed the clothes she was on, noticed the date, the time, and swallowed loudly, his throat had dried up in such a way that the ball of nervousness descended ripping through his vocal cords. What was she doing with Damon Salvatore again?

 

The restaurant did not look familiar. The photos taken from some outside point showed only Carmen Sandiego at lunch with Damon Salvatore. She was laughing, and seemed completely at ease in his company, which made Robin’s stomach twitch. He remembered Damon's hands running over her body and shivers ran through his arms. He continued to leaf through the photos, watching the proximity, the exchanges of glances, the whispered conversation as they approached so that the lips became incredibly close. One of the photos was just the shadow of her face behind his, and the angle suggested what might be a kiss on the neck or that she was whispering something, but unfortunately Robin felt his body believing the first hypothesis.

 

He hated himself for what he felt. For all the entrancing sensations that choked him at that moment, by the exacerbated will to scream and break everything around him. But that was what Gold intended. Sending those pictures had had the mission of making him lose his temper, something he would not freely and willingly give to Eugene Gold. Try again, my dear. He mumbled, bitter.

 

Robin flipped through the photos, trying to keep control of his emotions. One of the photos contained Damon's hand on her hand, both on the table, and Regina did not take it out. He remained in all the photos smiling as if he were going to devour her, on that table, just as he had done with her. Keep focus. He alerted his common sense, and he forced himself to accept. He would come home and talk to her. To process and digest all that jealousy overload would only make him stressed, suspicious, and angry. He was no longer a child, he was a man and he would have to manage his feelings as such. He shoved the photos into the nearest trash can and filled the glass with more scotch. Just had to put up with it until she got home.

 

***

 

"I never thought I'd see you again." Laughed Damon, staring at her. He was still handsome. The inquisitive blue eyes, a red polo shirt that only favored him, his messy hair.

 

"I'm glad you agreed to have lunch with me, Damon." Regina smiled. It was easy for her to deal with Damon. He was flirting all the time and if there was something she was unbelievably good at, it was flirting. In the game of pull and push, give and take, open and close. Men were her favorite hobby, and manipulating them was more of a sport than a habit. All they needed to stay at her feet was the right measure of massage in their egos and the even more correct measure of indifference and contempt. A dangerous combination, however, fatal and decisive. Regina sipped her white wine and stared at him.

 

"Of course I'd rather see you in less clothes, but that one is also looking good."

 

She laughed, and he followed her. "In my defense, they are work clothes."

 

"You were never an architect, weren't you?" He asked, and she only confirmed his suspicions, shaking her head from side to side.

 

"No."

 

"I imagined. I was the one who did not lie that night."

 

She looked at him with a smile. "No lies?"

 

"Alright, I lied."

 

She laughed. "I knew it!! You can not accuse me anymore!”

 

"My brother and I have illicit business in Europe."

 

"The Blood Tyx."

 

His eyes widened and he leaned across the table, watching her closely. "How do you know that?"

 

"About the drug you guys have developed that tastes like blood, and is the new doom of the young?" She had bent over and they stared at each other closely, the closeness with which they had both become acquainted after a night of torrid sex. "I'm a well-informed person, Salvatore. But still, you were too good-looking to be missed."

 

"Did you know about my business that night?"

 

She sighed. "No. I knew it later. I like to know who I got involved with."

 

"I thought that was unfair," he mumbled, and his eyes fixed on her lips. "You know more about me than I do about you."

 

"For your comfort, I also have problems with illegal deals."

 

He laughed. "At least we're in the same boat. A toast to that.”

 

Regina lifted her glass and touched his. "Cheers."

 

They drank the liquid at the same time, filling their mouth with the mellow and sweet liquid. The refreshing, chilling sensation soon covered them. "I have a proposition for you." Her voice came calm and soft.

 

Damon slid his hand over hers, caressing her. She looked up and he continued to stare at her. "In your hotel or mine?"

 

She laughed but did not take her hand away. "As tempting as it is to have it again..." She pointed at his body without any modesty. "My proposal is about business, Damon. It's going to be risky, dangerous and a bit tiresome, but it's what you need to make your business with Stefan leverage to a new level.”

 

What she liked best about him was his impetus, his freedom, his free way of seeing life. A handsome, determined man who risks his limits. It did not take more than a minute for him to take the rest of the remaining wine in his goblet. Then he leaned close to her. Lips close again. "How much?"

 

Regina leaned forward and ran down the back of his neck, pulling him to her neck and reaching his ear, where she nibbled at the earlobe and then whispered. "A million euros." She felt the nape of his neck twitch, and delighted herself with that. Ah, the effect of money - it never changed. A cold sweat, a shiver running down her spine and dying at the back of her neck. The warm tingle at the fingers, inside the fingertips. He just pulled away enough for her eyes to face his.

 

"Just tell me what to do. I'm in."

 

Outside the Skylon Restaurant, Emma photographed them. Lying on one of the pilasters, she grabbed the professional camera and took some more photos. She tugged her golden hair aside, and nodded at the brunette. Then she turned to the camera and pressed the third button, starting the backup. Seconds later, the blonde wandered off the outside porch of the restaurant and headed down the street to her car. She dialed some numbers on her cell phone. "It's Emma. I want you to take the photos I just placed on our server and send them to Eugene Gold. Yes, take any of the fake emails." She turned off the alarm and set her camera in the passenger seat, tossing the backpack into the backseat. She turned her attention to something that was said on the other end of the line. "We need to hurry. The girl will get us in trouble.”

 

She turned off her cell phone and sped into the avenue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to my beta, she's the betta


End file.
